An Attempt to Tip the Scales
by BrookenLucas12
Summary: AU. Dan Scott had done the honorable thing by asking Karen Roe for joint custody of the son he fathered. Karen Roe had done the honorable thing by agreeing to it. Tree Hill seemed to certainly think so, anyway.
1. Debate Exposes Doubt

**Author's Note: **Wow. Haven't written one of these in a while. In fact, I haven't written any of anything in a while. So I'm apologizing if I'm a little rusty, but I was really feeling like I needed to write something because I've been going crazy! And I've been feeling dumber, too! Ew! So, yes. Here is my newest story. Can't promise I'll offer frequent updates, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

By the way, I will finish my other stories. Maybe. At some point. I just need to WANT to finish them. Maybe this will be the little push that will shove me to finish them. Or something. We'll see, I guess.

I don't know any of what I'm planning for this. I just know that I'm excited and I'm going to have fun and I hope everyone else does too. This is sort of an introductory chapter I guess, but there will be a few more explaining everything. Just sit back and enjoy.

**Spoilers: **All you need to know (because the rest will be explained later) is that this is what would have happened if when Dan asked Karen for joint custody of Lucas when he was a baby, Karen agreed. This will be basically entirely AU so forget everything else you know about everyone.

**Disclaimer: **So obviously, I don't own One Tree Hill. If I did, it wouldn't suck so bad right now.

**Chapter One: Debate Exposes Doubt**

_It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do a little. Do what you can. - Sydney Smith_

A soft breeze fluttered through the morning air, warm and cool at the same time. The harbor looked serene, with its boats swaying calmly and the ocean's water still pale, waiting for the sun to come out farther and shed some more light.

A teenage boy, tall and blond, ran at a steady pace along the boardwalk, eyes focused in front of him. He breathed in the air, always having loved the smell of the dock by the river, familiar and loving to him it was.

Except for this, he did not allow himself any distractions. He was focused, determined. He had a schedule and a plan and he had to meet both expectations.

He ran through the town and around the nice neighborhoods of it. He ran until he was sure his legs could collapse at any given point, and even then, he ran some more.

By the time he found himself turning onto the familiar street, Tree Hill was waking up. Children loitered in front of their houses and restaurants and businesses alike were beginning to open.

As he approached the house, he tugged off his sweatshirt, tossing it on the ground the instant he entered. He brought his left leg up to his chest, counted silently, and released it, then did the same with the other.

He heard a shuffling sound he could clearly translate as footsteps and he groaned inwardly, stepping further into the house and closing the door.

It wasn't long before he saw his father, tie loosely looped around his neck and the scent of aftershave lingering in the air around him.

"Nice run?" He grinned.

A roll of his eyes, "Same as always, Dad."

Dan Scott fell into step with his son as they walked towards the kitchen, following the scent of breakfast.

"You know, I'm proud of you, Luke. You've really been staying in shape. You don't have to run every morning, but you do, and it's been paying off. You scored more points than you ever have against Charleston last week."

Lucas couldn't help but smile at that. He _had _done amazingly well during his last basketball game. Better than his father had ever done, even. He was slowly stepping out of the shadow his father had left behind for high school basketball and was successfully building his own name.

As they entered the kitchen, Lucas went straight for the fridge, grabbing a bottled water. He downed it easily.

"I hope you plan on staying for breakfast this morning, Lucas." He turned towards the stove, where his stepmother stood, sprinkling salt and pepper over scrambled eggs.

"Yeah," He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about yesterday. I was in a hurry."

He'd always liked his stepmother. She did not follow the Cinderella or Mommy Dearest storylines. She was kind and although showed a definite preference to her own son (which was to be expected), she treated him pretty well and always offered to do his laundry or to talk if he had any girl problems. Plus, she put up with his dad, and for that, she should be up for Sainthood.

Dan approached his wife and placed a quick kiss on the cheek. "Will you be here for dinner?" She asked.

"I don't think so." He shook his head.

"Working late _again_, dad? Mom's going to start thinking you're having an affair." All eyes turned to the kitchen entryway, where Nathan stood.

Dan chuckled. "Enough out of you, kid."

"Defensive, much?"

"Please," Deb smiled. "Like he'd ever cheat on _me_."

"True." Nathan smiled back at his mother, a bond connecting them in the largest of ways, despite being miniscule and non-important.

Lucas cleared his throat and sat down at the kitchen table. Nathan did the same. Deb set two plates in front of them and ruffled Nathan's hair as she walked past him.

"You need a ride to school?" Lucas grunted as he ate his breakfast.

"Nope. Peyton's giving me one." At this, Lucas looked up at his brother, a frown crossing his features.

"Peyton Sawyer?" Dan asked from behind his newspaper.

"Have you ever met anyone _else_ named Peyton?" Nathan nodded.

"That's one of the cheerleaders, right? The one whose mother died?"

"Dan.." Deb warned.

"What? She did." He shrugged innocently.

Lucas ignored all this, eyes focused only on his brother. "Since when are you and Peyton friends?"

"Since she got put into General Art because she didn't follow the guidelines enough in Studio Art. It sucks because she's really good too. But we sit next to each other. She's cool."

"Are you dating?" Deb prodded, a grin growing on her features.

"Mom!"

"Oh come on. If you can't tell your mother about these things, who can you tell?"

"We're not dating." He rolled his eyes.

Lucas smiled a bit, looking back down at his food. He had never been a fan of Deb's food. On the days he spent at the Scott household, he really had to force it down. His mother's cooking was just much better, and most days he was here, it was eating breakfast that made him miss her.

Nathan was up, putting his dish in the sink. "Oh, Lucas. I'm going to need a ride home."

Lucas shook his head, mouth full. "Can't. I've got practice."

"Well, I've got tutoring so we'll be out about the same time." He tugged his backpack on.

"Okay."

"How's that going, Nate?" Dan lowered his newspaper, seeming genuinely interested for once in something other than basketball.

"Uh, fine. My tutor's cool. She's going to get me to stop failing everything so cool." He shrugged.

Dan grimaced. "Maybe she'll get you to use a word other than cool."

"Yeah, that'd be cool." Nathan grinned.

Their father laughed heartily and then checked his watch. "Great. Well, I better go."

"Yeah, me too. Peyton will probably be outside soon." Both dark-haired Scott boys placed a quick kiss on Deb's cheek before exiting.

"So," Deb turned to face him, hands on her hips. "How do you like the eggs? I made them just how you like them."

He forced himself to smile. "Great."

-

Nathan Scott often wondered what his life would be like if his father had done things differently. He knew it was probably because he sometimes dreamed about it, and it always plucked up his interest. He dreamt of his father having just chosen Deb, and leaving Lucas to Karen. He dreamt of his father choosing to be with Karen, and leaving him and his mother to rot. He dreamt of his father leaving altogether.

When his mother and father had moved to Tree Hill, when he was in mere infancy, his father had asked Karen for joint custody of Lucas, and despite her best instincts and the persistence of his Uncle Keith, she had agreed to it. So since as long as Nathan could remember and even before, Lucas would spend one week with them and one week with his mother.

As a child, they had been very close, so this had really bothered him. "Why do I only get my brother every other week?" He would ask his father, to which his father would reply, "At least you have me every week," and would tickle him until he could no longer breathe.

When Lucas had turned five, he'd received a basketball from his father as a birthday present. He hadn't put the thing down for weeks. Nathan had jealously stared outside the window, liking the way the ball looked as it flew through the air and as it bounced on the cemented ground. Dan had watched as well, the proud father of a future basketball prodigy, it seemed.

And so Dan treated Lucas as if he was the next Michael Jordan. He enrolled Lucas in every sport imaginable, and Nathan too, when he showed an interest. But Lucas was older (even if by only eight months) and bigger and stronger, so when he got more attention in Little League baseball and football and basketball, Nathan grew bored.

When his father would be mad at Lucas for not "striking that kid out" or "shooting that foul shot" he would shrink back even more, opting to play basketball with only himself as his witness at the basketball court by the river. He loved the game; the feeling of the leather ball as it hit his fingertips; the swooshing sound the ball made as it flew through the net; he just didn't love his father's opinion on it.

Of course his father eventually gave up on having him play team sports, and though he claimed to love his sons equally, Nathan was sure if he could, Dan would have it so _Nathan_ stayed with Karen every other week, so that he could have Lucas all to himself every day.

A horn honked loudly, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up from the sidewalk in front of his house and saw Peyton's face through the window of some car he could not name.

Quickly, he jogged to the passenger door and let himself in. "Sorry. I was zoning out."

"I could tell," Peyton grinned. "You didn't look too happy."

He turned to look at her sideways. She was very pretty, with her pale skin and large hazel eyes. He wanted mostly to run his hands through her hair, curly and messy and blonde and beautiful.

He did not like her, though. At least, he didn't think so.

"I was thinking about how much I'm hating our art project," He joked with a smile.

"Liar. But I hate it too." She looked frustrated at the thought of their art class, and it made sense. She was a true artist, and she should be able to have some freedom. However, all of Tree Hill High's art teachers were closed-minded and allowed no room for creativity.

"You're not even doing it!"

"I know, but come on. Who is?" She smiled. She was wearing a 'Dashboard Confessional' shirt, and he made a mental note to look the band up later.

He shook his head. "And you wonder why you're failing.."

She laughed and so did he.

-

".. I know, guys. It's nearing the end of November, and everyone's excited to have that 5-day Thanksgiving weekend. I get it. But that doesn't give you guys the right to slack off. Come on! Do you really want to make this harder for yourself? Slack off now and suffer later."

Lucas' English teacher, Mrs. Rose, looked less than pleased as she addressed the class. She was usually really cool, which was expected since she was still in her twenties and pretty. Young, pretty teachers were meant to be cool.

"So, here are your tests. Look them over, and I better be getting test corrections. Remember," She began to walk through the aisles, handing back the tests, "you'll get half a point for every two questions you answer correctly. May not seem like a lot, but it _will _help your grade. Trust me."

A girl in the back Lucas vaguely recognized with auburn hair raised her hand.

"Haley?"

"Yeah, uh, what was the highest grade in the class?" There was some snickering around the room. He didn't know her, but since school had started over two months before, he knew that people had made fun of her because she cared about school so much.

"100. Second was a 99."

As Mrs. Rose passed his desk, she left his test face down.

"Now, I know Thanksgiving break is coming up soon but I figured I may as well get us started on our next reading assignment," the usual groans followed her announcement, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh get over it. We'll be reading '1984' by George Orwell, and I have a feeling a lot of you will be surprised to find you like it.."

She was met with numerous blank stares and the teacher couldn't help but laugh as the bell rang.

"Alright, grab the books on the way out. Write your name on the insides and don't forget to sign out which one you got, please. Thanks guys. Now get out."

As Lucas loaded his stuff into his bag, he turned his test over.

_100/100_

_Excellent work, Lucas!_

-

Tree Hill loved him.

He had done the right thing. He had made a mistake, and he had fixed it. He had fathered two sons, and taken the responsibility and raised both. So, inevitably, Tree Hill loved him.

He owned one of the largest dealerships in North Carolina, he donated to charities, and his son was the star player of the Tree Hill Ravens. Of course everyone loved him.

Maybe if he'd done things differently, people wouldn't have seen him the way they did. They would have seen the actual mistake; that he'd gotten a girl he loved pregnant and then left her, and had returned married to another pregnant woman and had done what anyone else would have felt forced to.

As he thought this, he sipped his whiskey slowly and spun his wedding ring on the table absentmindedly.

Unintentionally, the ring spun off the table, straight into the trash can.

"How ironic," He thought out loud.

-

"You're late."

Haley James did not look at all amused. His tutor's arms were crossed over her chest and she was scowling.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I had to get you a progress report." Nathan handed it to her without glimpsing at it himself.

She relaxed, smiling slightly. "Well then I guess you're forgiven."

As she opened the card, she swallowed, handing it back to him almost instantly.

"Damn," He winced as he looked it over. "I suck."

"I don't get it! You're too smart to be getting grades like this, Nathan."

He almost asked her why she thought this. After all, she'd known him less than a month and they'd only recently become this comfortable around each other. How did she know how smart he was?

"Well," She sighed. "At least you're doing okay in math. And art. And PE."

"I just suck at everything else. And I still suck at Math. That's barely a C-minus, Hales."

"I know, but it's better than an F. It's okay. You're going to start doing better."

"Oh yeah? What gives you that idea?"

"Well, isn't that obvious?" She grinned, and he noticed how cute her smile was, despite the fact that she didn't wear very much makeup. "Because _I'm_ your tutor."

"Oh right. And you can work miracles?"

"You'd be surprised."

-

When Lucas pushed open the doors of the Boys' locker room, he saw his brother standing outside, thoughts clearly preoccupied by something.

"Sorry," He said as he approached Nathan. "Whitey made us stay late and run suicides because some guys were slacking off." It was the truth. His legs were still killing him.

"I wasn't waiting long." Nathan shrugged.

As the brothers walked towards Lucas' car, Lucas couldn't help but think of how far apart they'd grown in the years since they'd been little. They had grown up best friends, and now, sixteen, they were practically strangers. Lucas never saw Nathan in his free time. He didn't even know who Nathan hung out with at school or otherwise, either.

It was strange. If this was them years before, they'd have a million things to talk about. Now it was just awkward. Most of the time they were talking they were fighting or just trying to find something to fill the silence with. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do to change it now.

Either way, this was the closest they'd probably ever be. If their father had chosen to live his life any other way, he reasoned, they'd probably be even farther apart than they were now.


	2. Scott for the Win

**Author's Note: **I guess I'm going to have to get used to the fact that a lot of people don't review anymore. At least you're reading, I hope. People have been asking me what I'm planning on doing for the couples of the story, and I'm honestly not sure yet, myself. Someone also pointed out to me that Lucas is three months older than Nathan, not eight (or seven). I knew that, so I don't know why I made the mistake, but sorry. And enjoy. (And hopefully review)

**Chapter Two: Scott for the Win**

_Fame is a vapor, popularity an accident, riches take wing, and only character endures._

_- Horace Greeley_

Karen Roe sighed contently as she poured herself a cup of coffee. The scent of it rose up, carrying through her nose and brain and already she was more awake. Her café, Karen's Café, had opened up for business exactly an hour ago, and already she found herself needing a break.

As she sipped her coffee, she eyed the café that she had spent almost seventeen years building. Luckily for her, because Dan had paid so much financial support, she had been able to afford to build this place. If he hadn't been so generous, she probably would have been up to her neck in loan payments.

She loved it here. It was easily her favorite place in the world. She loved her bar and her customers and the yellow of the walls and the books. She loved it all.

The bell on the door rang, signifying that a customer was coming in. She pulled out her notepad, fully prepared for an order, and was surprised to see her son.

"Lucas!" She exclaimed, a grin growing on her pretty features. She ran to her son, standing on the tips of her toes to hug him.

"Hey ma," He smiled, cheeks flushed.

As he took a seat at the counter, she felt her insides fall. It was not fair that she could not see this boy every day. She had him every other week and some days during his week with his father he would stop by her café after school, but most of time he was busy with practice. She loved seeing him; her baby.

Karen hated that she had not been there to witness every one of his accidents or accomplishments. Going to all of his games was not enough. She constantly wished she could see her boy every day. Then again, not being a full-time mother certainly had its perks. She could date easily, and she could afford this café as well as her own expenses easily. She just wished that Lucas would see his dad every other weekend instead of every other week.

"So, what brings you here at," she checked her watch, eyebrows raised, "seven in the morning?"

"I was running and I figured I'd stop by and get some breakfast." He shrugged, tugging on the sleeves of his gray sweatshirt.

"Running, Lucas? So early?" If there was one thing she didn't like about Dan having control over Lucas, it was the fact that Dan worked him so hard in order to keep him in shape for basketball.

"Yeah. I kind of like it, actually. I mean, I'm not exactly a fan of the aching limbs but I _do_ like the way the town looks so early in the morning. Plus, it keeps me in shape."

Karen didn't look convinced. "And this has nothing to do with your dear old dad?"

"Please," Lucas snorted. "Since when do I listen to him?"

"If you say so," Karen grumbled, bringing him a plate of waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns.

"Whoa, mom. Thanks."

"Yeah, eat up," She ruffled his hair. "You're looking a little thin."

"I'm fine," He assured her.

"I know, but I always worry about you when you're not with me. You know that."

"Well, if it's any reassurance, I always wish I was I was at your house when I'm at dad's."

She touched her son's cheek affectionately. "It's your house too, kid."

He checked the clock and grimaced. "It's late. I better get back to the house so I can shower and everything."

"Well," She sighed, always sad to see him go, "if you come back over after school, there will be one of your favorite pumpkin pies ready waiting for you." It was a bribe, but it was all she had to offer.

"I can't," Lucas smiled sadly, "practice."

"Right."

She watched him go. God, he was tall now. Probably over six feet. She could remember when he was shorter than her. Not too long ago, it seemed. Soon enough, he would be eighteen and gone, probably playing basketball at some big-shot college. What would she do then?

-

Nathan's hand was steady as he pressed the brush against the canvas. His strokes were long and thick and when he was finished, he pulled the brush away.

"That sucks," Peyton said from beside him, eyes never leaving her own canvas.

"You don't even know what it is!" He argued.

"Sure I do. It's a tree."

He grinned. "It can't suck that bad if you can tell what it is."

"Do you honestly believe that?" She snorted.

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes. "Let's see what you did then, Picasso."

Peyton turned her canvas to face him, and his jaw dropped. It was a painting of a car driving towards a stoplight that shone red, red, and red. The car was clearly still in motion, and the driver in the driver's seat had a set of curls that resembled Peyton's quite perfectly. He wondered if it was symbolism or some sort of truth, or maybe just a painting with no meaning behind it.

"That's amazing," He said, breath nearly taken away.

"You think?" She smiled.

Nathan bit his lip. "Yeah, but… the assignment was to paint a forest."

-

Peyton Sawyer loaded her History and English book carefully into her locker. She found it so unfortunate that the classes that required her to carry the heaviest textbooks happened to be right next to each other. Her bag always felt like it might rip straight through the muscles and bones in her shoulder. At least then, she thought lightly, she wouldn't have to carry the books anymore.

She slammed the locker shut and jumped at the sight of Brooke Davis, right beside her locker. Chocolate-red colored hair straightened to just below her shoulders and green eyes shining bright, her best friend looked like she did after only seeing one thing.

"So, P. Sawyer, who was that gorgeous boy I saw you with after first?" And there it was.

"Who, Nathan?"

Brooke raised en eyebrow. "Nathan Scott? No way was that him."

"Way, Brooke," They fell into step towards the cafeteria, where Brooke would purchase her usual chocolate muffin and Peyton would purchase her usual espresso. "Because it was him. We have art together."

"Damn, he's gotten really hot."

"He doesn't look any different then he did last year." Peyton frowned and Brooke did too.

"Yeah, but he's a lot taller now, and that can make _all_ the difference. Are you interested?"

Maybe. "No way."

"Interesting."

Peyton stopped. "You're not serious."

"I didn't say anything, did I?" Brooke said innocently, hopping away to the lunch line.

"You didn't need to." Peyton murmured under her breath.

Honestly, she wasn't sure how she felt about Nathan. He was cool, that was for sure. Funny, nice, and definitely easy on the eyes. She liked that he was nothing like his brother. Nathan was essentially the anti-Lucas. She just couldn't help but think that maybe that was the reason she liked him.

-

Brooke groaned as she rummaged through her purse. When she could not find what she was looking for, she looked up at the cashier with one of her trademark dimpled smiles.

"Okay, I could have _sworn_ I put money in my wallet this morning."

She was met with a blank stare, and she felt herself growing hysteric. "Come on! I come here every day, you can't just cut me some slack? I mean.. look, I have credit cards if--"

"We don't take credit cards, Brooke." The cashier was a student, probably a sophomore (those were always the most annoying) with unevenly plucked eyebrows and the ugliest shade of pink lip gloss smeared over her lips.

"Alright, aside from being a _little _freaked out that you know my name, - which by the way, I'm just going to let go - I really think that you could just let me pay you back the large sum of three dollars and ninety-five cents tomorrow because I mean, I _need_ this muffin. I know that sounds crazy, but--"

She stopped herself as she saw the five dollar bill be slapped onto the counter, and the cashier smile. Turning to her left, her eyes widened at the sight of Lucas Scott.

"Thanks," She smiled.

He shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. It's four dollars, Brooke."

Whatever. If he was going to be an ass _as usual_, she wasn't even going to try to be nice. "Okay. Thanks for being a bitch," She said to the cashier, before sauntering off.

Lucas shook his head as he watched her go. Brooke Davis was certainly a mystery to him. Although most of the guys on the basketball team claimed to have had sex with her, she had yet to truly throw herself at him, which he found strange.

Brooke approached Peyton, muffin already half eaten, with a smile.

Peyton raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

"The bitch-of-a-cashier wouldn't let me pay her back tomorrow because I forgot my wallet. So Lucas paid."

"That was nice of him."

"Sure, I guess," Brooke looked towards the courtyard, "let's sit. I'm hungry and tired of standing."

-

Lucas chugged a water bottle and then laid his head against the kitchen counter, slightly wiped. Practice had run him ragged this afternoon, not to mention his three hour morning run.

"Game tonight," His dad entered the room with a grin. "How do you feel?"

"Great." He deadpanned.

"Are you tired?"

"A little," He admitted. It wasn't just that, but he was sore. His legs and arms were killing him.

Dan sighed. "You know, when I was your age, I worked probably _twice_ as hard as you, and I never complained about being tired."

"That doesn't make me any less tired, dad," Lucas rolled his eyes and stood. "But hey, thanks for the pep talk."

-

Whitey Durham looked at his players, all waiting for his command. They were strong, these boys. Maybe the best players he'd had yet. His eyes went over them; Jagielski, Smith.. and of course, Scott.

Lucas Scott was by far his most promising player. Only problem was, the boy worked himself maybe even harder than _he_ worked him. He knew that it was in part because of his father, but he couldn't judge Danny. Dan was a good man, he just didn't know how to coach.

With a sigh, the man spoke, "Second game of the season. This is usually where we know how we're going to do. Now, I _know_ you guys can win. But that doesn't matter if you don't think you can. So.. do you think you can?"

The team chorused cheers in approval, and he grinned.

"Alright. Then let's play ball."

-

"Alright," Mouth McFadden held the fake microphone to his lips. "Let's play ball."

The Rivercourt was lit nicely and the weather was perfect for a night of basketball.

Nathan grinned as he ran towards the net, dribbling and then doing a perfect lay-up.

"Oh! And Nathan Scott makes the shot _very_ nicely. I think we know how this game is going to go tonight, ladies and gentlemen."

Skillz sighed, "Why you gotta doubt us like that, Mouth? You're gonna jinx it."

"I just tell it like I see it." Mouth laughed.

Nathan stole the ball from a preoccupied Skillz and tossed it easily through the net. He laughed as well. "Skillz, maybe you should complain less and worry about your game more."

"Yeah, get your ass over here, White Boy, and we'll see who's game needs worrying.."

-

He liked that the crowd and the cheerleaders cheered specifically for him most of the time. It made him feel important, and like this game was really _his_. It was, after all.

"He can shoot, he can score, so they will beat us nevermore! Gooo Lucas!"

He grinned as Tim tossed him the ball, and in seconds it was through the hoop, an easy 3-pointer.

And the crowd went wild.

-

"Alright, this is getting pretty intense, folks," Mouth could barely speak as he watched his friends play. "Nathan Scott has scored a mind-blowing forty points this game, but will that all pay off right now? The score is tied and he needs to get this last shot in order to secure his winning streak."

"Way to ease off the pressure, Mouth," Nathan joked half-heartedly, waiting for the ball to come his way.

".. Nathan reaches for the ball, he's got it, he's running to the net, he's.."

-

"Lucas Scott looks tired. He's scored thirty-six points and this is going to determine whether or not those points matter. The future of the Ravens may not depend on this game, but it definitely depends on him."

"Ball, ball!" Lucas ignored the announcers, gesturing for Jake to throw him the ball.

The curly-haired boy complied, and Lucas was soon sailing across the court, heart beating so loud he feared it could explode in his chest at any moment, and with his legs and arms both aching _so_ _so_ bad. When he reached the basket, he steadied himself and tossed the ball.

"Scott for the win!"

And it went in and the crowd went crazy and his team was jumping on him and the cheerleaders were running too, and everyone wanted a piece of him, then.

-

Nathan stole the ball from Fergie's grip, making his way carefully towards his side of the court, weaving past Junk and Skillz. And then he tossed it.

Mouth swallowed, standing up. "Scott for the win!"

And it went in and his friends laughed and slapped his back and said, "Good game," and Nathan wondered what it was like to win a real game.


	3. They Want You or They Don't

**Author's Note: **So I'm really enjoying writing this, and reviews are _definitely_ starting to get better. A lot of you are interested in the fact that this story is following such an alternate path that the show ever took, and honestly, I think that's my favorite part too. I've been getting a lot of questions about the couples, and I still don't really know how I'm planning on having them go. I really only have a vague storyline of what I want to happen, but I'm slowly figuring it out. It's going to be a lot of fun, that's all I know.

-

**Chapter Three: They Want You or They Don't **

_Girls, like men, want to be petted, pitied, and made much of, when they are diffident, in low spirits, or in unrequited love. These are services which the weak cannot render to the strong and which the strong will not render to the weak, except when there is also a difference of sex.__ - George Bernard Shaw_

Brooke Davis munched on her daily chocolate muffin by herself on the quad, eyes trained on Nathan Scott walking with some geeky looking guy with big lips. When the younger Scott brother laughed, Brooke raised an eyebrow. He _was_ cute. It hadn't just been her imagination.

She had known of the Scott family for, well, her entire life. She had cheered for Lucas' team during little leagues, and basketball/cheer camp crossovers, and honestly, she'd always thought that they were an odd bunch. There was Dan, who clearly had a few skeletons in his closet that needed airing out. She could only imagine what was going through his mind. 'Did I pick the right woman? Did I do the right thing?'. Deb was a complete mystery to her. She went to some of Lucas' games but she always seemed bored, like she wished she was off on some Caribbean island with Johnny Depp and a gallon of rum. Lucas was simply Lucas. Clearly full of himself - because why wouldn't he be? - but also a decent guy when it came down to it. Nathan, though, Nathan was a different story. She'd seen Nathan around for years, and he was kind of popular by association, but looking at him now, with his muscles showing through his plain blue shirt, she had to wonder why _he_ didn't play ball too. Knowing Dan, he'd probably encouraged it. So she wasn't quite sure what his deal was. But she was certainly intent on finding out.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you that staring was rude?" She tore her gaze away long enough to glare at Lucas, who wore an amused smirk.

"I'm trying to enjoy my muffin here, what do you want?" She defensively shoved a chunk into her mouth, allowing herself to appreciate the chocolate chunks hidden in the deeper crevices of the pastry.

He shrugged, "Just making an observation," Hands shoved into his pockets, he began to walk away.

"Well, you can make your observations elsewhere, thanks." Brooke waved him off with a hand, watching as he went.

Once he was out of sight, her gaze returned to Nathan, who had by now sat down at a table with the geeky friend and had pulled out a clearly homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwich which he would occasionally chomp on as him and his friend talked.

"Let's hope you're nothing like your brother," Brooke grinned, finishing off her muffin.

Across the courtyard, Peyton was taking her frustrations with the world out on a formerly blank piece of paper. What frustrations, she was not exactly sure. She didn't know why she was so angry half the time, but she assumed it was her lack of control over things. She liked knowing what was happening and being in control of it, and when she wasn't, she got upset. A therapist she'd visited to handle her grief after the death of her mother had told her that her need for control was probably a side-effect of her mother's death; how the unexpected had ripped her away from Peyton and no one really liked change, especially when change meant the loss of the most important person in her life.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and a few stubborn strands brushed against her cheeks, which she swiped away angrily once she got the chance.

"Well aren't you little miss sunshine," Brooke said dryly, grinning her dimpled smile as she did.

Peyton didn't look up. "Bad day."

"Really? I couldn't tell." Her sarcastic brunette friend took a seat at the table, raising her eyebrows in hopes to elicit a more detailed reply.

"My art teacher's failing me miserably," She conceded.

It was true, too. Her teacher had pulled her aside after class that morning and told her that Peyton was one of the _most_ talented students he ever had, she just needed to "apply herself correctly" which meant completing assignments as he gave them out. "Art is about being creative and letting out your individuality, not drawing trees because your art teacher told you to!" She had argued, but in the end, he had been stern and told her that he would be forced to fail her if she did not start doing what he said.

"But you rock at art!" Brooke frowned, confused.

She dropped her pen, meeting her friend's eyes for the first time that morning. "Yeah, but apparently I don't follow the rules."

"It's art," Brooke protested. "Why would there even be rules? I don't know what art means, but I'm sure it's something like, 'freedom to do whatever the hell you want.'"

Peyton chuckled, "You'd think so!"

"Teachers are dumb," Brooke shrugged, grabbing a hold of her best friend's hand, "no reason to let it ruin your day."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Peyton shut her notebook tightly, tucking it inside her bag carefully. "So, is there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Kind of," Brooke admitted with a sheepish smile. It was funny. Her dimples were so deeply imprinted into her cheeks that even the smallest of smiles could have been mistaken for a devious one.

"Spill."

"Okay, so the other day when I asked you if you were interested in Nathan, I was serious." Peyton couldn't believe that Brooke thought that _she_ could actually be interested in Nathan. She didn't know anything about him, other than the fact that he was attractive. That was hardly enough substance to like someone.

"Are _you_ interested?"

The brunette shrugged. "He's cute, but I was only asking because I wanted to invite him to Bevin's party tonight."

"Brooke--"

"I know, I know. But come on, I'm me. I'm cute and I'm loveable and he's going to see my dimples and melt and say yes."

Peyton raised an eyebrow. "Or," She said realistically, "he's going to be freaked out because you're asking him when you've never talked to him."

"Now that is just not true. I've talked to him plenty of times! We run in the same circles," Brooke declared simply.

"Uh-huh," Peyton chortled, "and exactly which circles are these?"

"We have some of the same friends." Peyton swallowed the urge to laugh again. Nathan hung out with the kids that lived in the low-income housing neighborhoods, and Mouth McFadden who was definitely not friends with Brooke. In fact, if she were to point him out to Brooke right now, offering her a million dollars to name him, she guaranteed Brooke wouldn't be able to.

"Like who?" She said instead.

"Tim!" Brooke gestured towards the table Nathan was currently occupying along with Mouth and Tim, who had just sat down.

"Okay, first of all, you and Tim aren't friends. Second of all, Tim has been following Nathan around since like, the first grade. _And_ Lucas, for that matter. He'll follow anyone, especially a Scott."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Whatever, that's besides the point. It's not like Nathan is some river-rat from the wrong side of the tracks! I know him, he knows me, and _sure_, we're not exactly friends, but that can change easily."

"Whatever you say."

"Peyton," Brooke said after a moment's consideration, "honestly, if you like him, I'll totally back off. I'm just bored, and he's cute, and he seems really nice, and every other boy right now is boring me."

"I don't like him. We're just friends. But I don't know. I don't think he'd want to come to Bevin's party."

She was being completely honest too. Okay, so she wasn't exactly sure if she liked him, but she _definitely_ didn't think he'd want to come to a party at Bevin's house. He just didn't really like that crowd of people. Sure, he'd been born into it and had grown up friends with most of the popular kids, but he didn't like to associate himself with them. She'd known this since Freshman year. Nathan Scott had always been invited to parties and he was generally well liked by the student body. He was funny and although not a member of the basketball team, he still managed to make friends with the likes of Tim, Vegas, and Theresa, but he never seemed to care about status and wealth as other members of his family did. He often opted to hang out with Mouth and Skillz and rarely socialized with the others, except for a friendly hello and goodbye.

"Well, we'll see about that." Brooke smirked, offering Peyton her arm.

At the table the two girls had been eyeing moments earlier, Nathan and Mouth were discussing the night's plans as Tim listened, clearly bored as the plans did not include him.

"I'll just meet you at the Rivercourt at, what, seven?" Mouth said between a mouthful of chips.

Nathan nodded just as Brooke and Peyton approached the table. Brooke wore a cute smile, and she sat herself down at the table next to Tim and across from Nathan. Peyton remained standing and looked slightly uncomfortable with her hands shoved into the pockets of her jean skirt.

"Hi boys," Brooke greeted, and blue eyes collided with hazel as her and Nathan made eye contact.

Tim bit his lip with a smirk. "Brooke, always a pleasure."

She didn't even mask her look of disgust, saying, "_Okay_, well I was wondering if you knew anything about Bevin's party tonight.."

"What's there to know? It's going to be a total rager!" The silly boy was nearly squealing, and Peyton looked away to stifle her laugh.

"That's what I heard," Brooke looked over at Nathan, "are you going?"

He shook his head, "Oh, uh, no." Why would he? He had never been a fan of the Ravens' cheerleader and player parties. All anyone ever did was get drunk and hook up. And as fun as getting drunk and hooking up, he would much rather spend his time playing basketball. Truth be told, he loved the idea of playing for the Ravens, he just didn't like the idea of the territory that came along with it. The spotlight was something his brother seemed to like more.

"Why not? It'll be fun," She was practically purring.

"I kind of already have plans." He looked over at Mouth, as if that were proof enough.

"Come on, _I'm_ inviting you. It'll be a blast. Whatever you have can wait until tomorrow, can it not?"

"You know, Nathan," Mouth's eyes were staring right at the cleavage of Brooke's shirt. "I really think it can wait until tomorrow. You should go - _go_." As if Nathan going meant he could somehow live vicariously through him.

Nathan looked from his friend back over to Brooke, and then Peyton. "Are you going?" He swallowed.

"Of course," She didn't look too excited, but he couldn't help but think it wouldn't be that bad if Peyton was going.

"Uh, alright, I guess."

"Jesus, don't sound so excited." Brooke joked, and he allowed a small laugh to escape his lips.

"Sorry. I'm just not usually big on parties."

Brooke winked. "Well, hopefully we'll be able to change your opinion tonight."

-

Haley James raked her hands through her cinnamon colored hair, messy and wavy around her shoulders. It had been a long day and all she wanted to do was go home and eat some dinner. Not to mention the fact that she had to be up extra early tomorrow for a job interview, and she had tons of homework tonight. Was it just her, or did she have more homework than the average student?

Well, a voice in her voice told her, you aren't the average student. And she wasn't. She was so far ahead in all of her classes - which were all advanced placement and honors - that she could literally skip finals and still probably come out with the highest GPA of all the students. Maybe that made her unpopular or a loser, but she didn't really care.

She had always sort of hung out on her own. Sure, she had a handful of friends. Mostly other students that tutored like herself. But on the whole, she was really on her own. As a child, she had grown up independent and with no need to find other friends to play with. She just truly enjoyed her own company. She enjoyed reading or listening to music on her own. She'd never felt the need to socialize or go out of her way to be popular. Haley just wasn't like other teenagers. Truth be told, she liked it better that way.

"Hey," She looked up to where Nathan Scott was standing, pulling off his backpack and placing it on the ground beside him. "I'm not late, by the way. You're just early."

She chuckled. "I wasn't going to say you were late."

He smirked. "So, I have a surprise for you."

"If it's not chocolate, I'm going to be _really_ disappointed." She warned lightly, her insides fluttering softly as he laughed.

"Alright, well that sucks, because it's not chocolate, _but_," he grinned, holding up an English quiz with a large '84percent! B!' written at the top. "I do have this."

"Nathan," She squealed, "that's absolutely fantastic! That's the best you've done all year!"

"I know. I just listened to all that stuff you were talking about when you were explaining that Steinbeck book, and I don't know. I guess it just makes sense when I have you to walk me through it."

She smiled shyly. "It has nothing to do with me. It's all you."

"I think we both know that's not true, but thanks." He shrugged, handing Haley the test so she could look over the answers he had missed.

"You know," Haley said, "you would think English would come more easier to you."

"Really? And why would you ever think that?"

"I have English with your brother, Lucas. And he's really good. I mean, probably better than me. But I guess you probably knew that." She shook her head, laughing.

Nathan frowned, furrowing his brow. Honestly, he had no idea what Lucas was good at or bad at. The two rarely spoke, let alone about their grades. The only reason Lucas knew about Nathan's grades were because Deb was constantly pestering him about getting them up. He couldn't really see Lucas being good at English, because he seemed so focused on basketball. He _had_ however seen Lucas reading a book once or twice. He's only assumed it was for class specifically, not pleasure.

"I didn't know that, actually."

"Yeah," Haley knew that him and his brother weren't close. Usually when they would take breaks from studying, they'd get to talking and things like that would come out. She'd just thought that maybe they knew some things about each other; the stupid stuff. _She_ wasn't close to any of her siblings, and she still knew what their talents were. Quinn painted, and Taylor was good at seducing men, while Vivian had a passion for law. "Well, I don't know. I was kind of surprised myself. Because he's the captain of the basketball team and all. You don't usually expect them to be smart."

Nathan nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable discussing his brother. "Yup."

"Why don't you play basketball?" She said suddenly, looking up from his quiz.

"I do," He nodded. "Just not for the team."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," He said slowly. "I guess it just always seemed like I'd be following Lucas or something. Because he did it first. I was never one to be a follower."

"Yeah," Haley felt as if she truly understood what he was saying. After all, she'd been the same way. "Me either."


	4. With Eyes of Stone, He Walks Alone

**Author's Note: **God, the review level for this story is always fluctuating. I'm never sure if people like it or not. Heh. Oh well. Either way, let me tell you, I've got _huge_ plans for this story. Massive. And I wouldn't have been able to think of most of them if it hadn't been for **Natalie**, who had a major brainstorming session with me and completely rocked my world. There will be tons of **brother stuff** and **romance** and **drama** so be ready, because it's going to be awesome. I keep getting asked about the couples, and let me just say, I think everyone's going to be pretty happy with the couples that I have planned. (Yes! I've finally decided. Hehe.)

I'd also like to thank **Natalie** once more for being my super-beta. She's absolutely wonderful, and I'm lucky to have her.

* * *

**Chapter Four: With Eyes of Stone, He Walks Alone**

"Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.  
_-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

There was something really comforting about his room at his mother's house. It was definitely not as big as the room at his father's, and less decorated in basketball memorabilia. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly a fan of the red plaid wallpaper, but it was familiar and always warm. It also gave him a much needed feeling of isolation to lie on his bed reading a book without the worry of disdainful prying eyes.

Besides, there was a door connecting to his room so just in case he had to sneak out, it was convenient to him. At his father's place, he'd have to jump from the window in his room onto the tree and fall to the ground. It was not the easiest process.

He also loved how his mom's house always smelled good, even if nothing was cooking. He loved his small bed and the dinosaurs lining the old shelves on the walls. He loved the collection of books he had built up. To sum up his thoughts, he simply loved being here.

He just wished that _while_ he was here, Tree Hill High and everyone in it would disappear. He didn't want to attend Bevin Prince's stupid beach party tonight, but he would because it was expected of him. How ridiculous was it that signing up for basketball came with attachments that he necessarily didn't want to be attached to. He did want to play basketball, about the only thing he was sure he wanted. He just didn't like the strings of popularity that came along with it.

There was a knock at the door, and his mom appeared, holding a basket of unfolded laundry in her arms. "Hey there," She smiled warmly.

"Hey mom," He stretched, sitting up on his bed.

"It's good to have you home. The house always feels much fuller with you here." Karen mused, drinking her little boy in with her eyes. He seemed almost too big for his twin-sized bed now, and she was thinking it was time to get him a new one.

He gave her a disbelieving smirk. "Aw, come on. You know whenever I'm not here Andy spends the night."

She blushed at the thought of her boyfriend of over six years. What with Lucas being half-Dan's, she had more time to herself. She had been able to enroll in a small business class at the Tree Hill Community College. There she met Andy Hargrove, a young millionaire from Australia, who was coincidentally her professor. She and Andy had almost immediately hit it off, and she'd never been happier in a relationship. Sure, letting go of Dan was hard, and she sometimes wondered if she was completely over him and what he'd brought her, but Andy was amazing. She loved Andy, and she knew that if he'd ask her to marry him, she would comply in a heartbeat. It was a plus that Lucas liked the guy, too.

"Well," She bit her lip, failing to find an excuse. She felt embarrassed to know her son knew she was most likely sleeping with a man she was not married to. Either way, she'd have to except at some point that Lucas was no longer a little boy, and that it did not faze him as much as she'd thought it would. "You know."

He raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, ma."

"Have you talked to your uncle Keith lately?" She changed the subject, shuffling her feet nervously, a habit she'd acquired over the years.

He sighed. He hadn't spoken to his uncle Keith in months, and his mother knew that. Since he could remember, Keith had always been trying to be there for Karen, to help raise him. Only, Karen had never needed help raising Lucas. She'd had a decent child support check, and she had weeks to herself to work. Keith had always been a friend, but Karen had never grown as close to him as Lucas knew Keith would have wanted. His uncle spent most of his time in bars drinking, and upon hearing that Karen had put herself into a serious relationship years before, he had completely backed off, and Karen was lucky if she saw him every six months.

"Not for a long time," He said slowly, watching her eyes cloud over with worry. "But I'm sure he's fine, though. Probably off at some bar right now watching ESPN classics."

"Funny," Karen shook her head sadly, guilt running through her veins for never being able to reciprocate Keith's feelings for her. "I don't consider that to be fine at all."

Lucas didn't either, but instead of telling her that he too was worried about his uncle, he offered her a confident smile. "Don't beat yourself up about it. He'll come back. He always does."

She wasn't so sure, but she found no need to worry Lucas in these matters. She felt that she rarely saw him, and she didn't want their time together to be wasted on drama; she was sure he had enough of _that_ at his father's house.

"Well," She cleared her throat. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. What do you want for dinner?"

He looked uncomfortably suddenly, scratching his head. "Actually, there's kind of a party tonight," he explained, "for the basketball team. I was kind of… planning on going?"

"Oh, sure," Karen feared her voice would reveal her true feelings towards him going to these parties. Although she thought herself to be a pretty cool mom, deep down, she always felt nervous about his time spent with the Ravens' basketball players and its cheerleaders. "Sure. Don't be home too late."

"Okay." He said, knowing he would anyway.

-

"So for the record," Brooke adjusted her black halter top, eyes focused on her reflection in her small compact mirror. "I am _never_ driving with you again."

"Sure," Peyton allowed a chuckle to escape her lips. "That's not the first time I've heard that, you know."

Brooke scoffed, and Peyton eyed her friend's appearance. Sometimes it struck her just _how_ pretty Brooke was. Her features were absolutely stunning. There was just something about her face, with her dimples and almond-shaped large hazel eyes and cute little nose. The brunette had opted to wear jeans and strappy heels, unlike her own short red skirt. Peyton certainly enjoyed showing off her legs. It was one way to get attention, she'd discovered. Peyton's attention was once again diverted to her best friend. "Well, that's before I almost had a near-death experience. Would it _kill_ you to stop for three seconds at a stop sign?"

"Well, last time I checked you had your own license _and_ car."

"_Whatever_. You still drive like you're hoping to crash." With that said, Brooke closed her mirror and placed it into her purse, a grin stretching over her features, nearly reaching her eyes. "So, P. Sawyer, what do you say we do some damage?"

"Let's go." The blonde said simply, linking arms with her best friend as they stepped out of her car. Peyton eyed Bevin's house critically. It seemed every time she was here, she saw something she hadn't seen the last time, whether it be a new barbeque pit or a new expensive statue to decorate the garden. Unlike most of her friends, Peyton was not rich. Sure, she and her father weren't _struggling_ to make ends meet. In fact, they were quite comfortable financially. It was just - compared to her friends, she had about as much money as Oliver, the orphan.

Brooke gave her best friend a little squeeze. "I wonder if Nathan showed up."

"He _did_ say he would, didn't he?"

"Yes, and while I'm usually confident of my convincing abilities, he definitely seemed hesitant." Brooke could still remember the flash in his eye. It had been of uncertainty, and while he'd almost instantly covered it up, she had not missed it, despite her flirtatious remarks and nonchalant behavior.

Peyton rolled her eyes. "He'll be fine. He's been to a party before, Brooke."

By now they had reached the door, and Brooke sighed, straightening herself up once more before pulling the large door open far enough for the both of them to step inside.

The second they were in, a rush of nostalgia hit them. Smoke was in the air, the strong scent of alcohol, and music was pounding so loudly the walls vibrated. Bodies were everywhere; passed out, dancing, playing strip poker.

Bevin grinned as she saw them approaching her, sauntering towards them and wrapping her arms around her two friends. "_Girlsss,_" she slurred, clearly drunk. "You're late!"

"Surprising, considering we drove at the speed of light," Brooke murmured, and Peyton shot her friend a teasing death glare, which the dark-haired beauty quickly returned.

"Well, you're here now, right?" Bevin tossed her head back, laughing.

"So Bev," Brooke was already walking towards the bar, Peyton and Bevin in tow. "Has Nathan Scott shown up?"

The tall blonde's jaw dropped. "You invited him?"

"Why?" Peyton asked suspiciously, suddenly wondering if Nathan had spent too much time _not_ hanging out with the popular kids that he would no longer be allowed in their circle. Not that he'd even _want_ to be apart of their circle.

"Because! Have you noticed how hot he's gotten?"

Brooke grinned, giving Peyton an 'I-told-you-so' look. "See? He _has_ gotten hotter."

Peyton rolled her eyes. She knew fully well that Nathan Scott had looked the way he did since last year, when he'd suddenly been able to fill out his shirts with the muscles in his arms and chest. And she _definitely_ knew that he hadn't changed since the beginning of the school year, since she'd known him.

"Whatever," she shrugged. "I'm off to find Tim. He owes me ten bucks."

"Good luck getting _him_ to pay up," Brooke remarked, rolling her eyes with experience before turning away.

As Peyton began to walk away, a familiar head of dark hair caught her eyes, and she found herself suddenly wondering if the skirt she was wearing was too slutty, and if it was a good idea for her cream-colored converse sneakers to be walking _towards_ this dark head of hair.

Nathan was wearing a pale blue t-shirt with a white thermal underneath, jeans, and boots. One of his hands held a beer, while the other was shoved deep into his pocket.

"Hey," She sidled up to him, smiling softly.

Nathan's eyes widened as he took in her attire, and she was suddenly thankful that she'd chosen to shave her legs. "Hey," he parroted, looking around Bevin's house quickly. "Great party, by the way." The sarcasm was dripping from his tone, and Peyton couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, I didn't really think this would be your thing…"

"Well, thanks for the warning--"

"…Actually, it's not really my thing either," He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, so she continued. "I mean, I mainly just come to these things because Brooke wants me to."

"Really," He said, and she got the feeling he didn't quite believe her. She was surprised to feel slightly hurt at his assumption. After all, she thought that the fact that she was different from her friends on the cheerleading squad had been partly why he'd become friends with her. "Yeah, I don't know. I was kind of surprised to find out you were even _coming_ to this."

She felt a smile form on her face involuntarily, and she blushed, her cheeks growing hot and pink. "_I_ was surprised when you agreed to come."

Nathan and Lucas had different eyes, she noticed. She could see the similarities in their eye _color_ and other features of their faces, but their eyes had entirely different shapes. Lucas' were generally smaller and got somewhat squinty when he was thinking, while Nathan's were wider and got only bigger when something was running through his mind. Not to mention the shapes were completely different. She liked Nathan's more, she decided.

"Well, I knew at least I'd have you." He shrugged, smiling at her. He had a very kind smile, and she felt her heart flutter slightly. Swallowing this feeling, she gave him a nervous smile back.

"Do you want to get a drink?" As she said this, he gestured towards the beer in his hand, which she'd already noticed, and she mentally slapped herself. "Right."

"But I'll go with you to get one." He offered, and Peyton nodded slowly.

"Thanks."

From afar, Brooke watched curiously, head cocked to the side. So Peyton _did_ like him. She could have sworn she'd seen her friend _giggle_, and that in itself was nearly crazy. _Peyton_ and _giggling_ just did not go together. But _God_, did Nathan look cute tonight. She liked that he always looked slightly uncomfortable no matter where he was, and how he was so shy, yet kind of confident at the same time.

With a sigh, she turned in search of a drink, but instead bumped into someone - hard. So hard in fact, that she was knocked off her balance instantly, leaving her life in the hands of the other person, who she could see was much bigger than her. Her savior leaned forward, catching her in his arms, and when she steadied herself, she murmured a "Thanks."

Lucas Scott stood before her in a plain white t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah. How many drinks you got in you, anyway?"

She felt her blood start to boil. "Um, none." She said it with such attitude that she could tell she'd already pissed him off. He was just _so_ easy.

"Really," He laughed darkly. "Could have fooled me."

"Whatever. You're lucky your better half is here, or I would actually indulge in your stupidity." Indulge, she prided herself. That was a good word. Probably smarter than what he'd expect her to say.

Lucas was squinting now, confused. "_What_ are you talking about?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" She feigned innocence. "Nathan's here! _I_ invited him, actually."

He looked genuinely surprised, and he looked up and around, assumedly for his brother. "Are you sure?" He seemed to be forgetting that they were currently giving each other attitude, and she shrugged. She could be civil, too.

"Yup. Just saw him walking off with P. Sawyer."

He looked at her again. "Peyton?"

"No, the _other_ P. Sawyer." She could not resist, and he looked embarrassed for a moment before pushing away from her and walking off.

She'd never really liked Lucas Scott. He was egotistical, and assumed he could get whatever girl he wanted just because he was a decent basketball player. Well, whatever. _She _certainly wouldn't date him. They had gotten along briefly during freshman year, when him and Peyton had been interested in each other, but since then, they rarely spoke. And whenever they did, there was usually unfriendly banter. Remembering that she'd been off in search of a drink, she continued walking towards one of the many kegs, hoping to forget her little encounter with the lesser Scott brother.

As Lucas looked around for his brother, he could not help but think of the little brunette he'd just run into. _God_, she annoyed him. She was so fake with her little smiles and her both friendly and unfriendly remarks. Brooke Davis really knew how to turn it on and off, and it really bugged him. Plus, there was the factor that over half the basketball team claimed to have hooked up with her. They said she was _so_ easy. But if that were true, wouldn't she have already gone for him? After all, he was the team captain. Either way, he knew that he just didn't like her. Period.

When his eyes landed on Nathan and Peyton laughing at one of the set up bars, he still could not believe them. Nathan looked so comfortable. Like he was having the best time, when in reality, Lucas couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his brother at one of these parties. Or _any_ party, for that matter.

Lucas approached his brother hesitantly, hands in his pockets. "Hi."

Nathan looked slightly surprised to see his brother as well, as if he'd _just_ remembered that Lucas was popular, that these were all his friends. "Oh hey."

"What are you doing here?" He hadn't said it rudely, only with curiosity. It wasn't that he was upset that his brother was here, he just really hadn't expected it.

Nathan shrugged. "I was invited, so I came."

"Oh," He nodded. "Does dad know you're here?" What a stupid question to ask. Mentally, he threw himself against a wall, hoping he could just disappear right there. He would rather be talking to _Brooke_ - no scratch that, _Bevin_ - then this.

His brother made a face, and Peyton did as well. "Uh, sure, I guess. He doesn't really care."

"Yeah," Lucas laughed, but Nathan simply blinked at him. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, and he blindly thought that he must have looked like some sort of fish. How was it that this was the kind of party _he_ always attended, and yet _he_ was the one that that was more embarrassed by this conversation. "Well, uh, I'm glad you came."

"Thanks." Nathan shifted uncomfortably, looking down.

Lucas nodded. "Uh, I think I see Tim, so I'm gonna go. Bye," Nathan gave a small wave and he nodded a goodbye towards Peyton as well. "Peyton."

As he left, Peyton frowned. "Um, _why_ was that so weird? He's your brother."

"So?"

She laughed, her golden curls bouncing as she did. "_So_, brothers are supposed to be comfortable around each other. And that was really, _really_ awkward. Like, painfully awkward."

Nathan simply shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. "I guess we just don't really have a lot in common."

"Yeah," Peyton said, "guess not."

As Peyton watched Lucas go, she felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach she hadn't felt since her freshman year in high school. It wasn't that she had feelings for him. It was more the opposite. She found it so odd that someone could go from caring about another _so_ much to not feeling anything for them. Lucas and her had been close once, but now they were practically strangers. Over the years she had watched him grow into a completely different person, and she saw a reflection of the person he'd been before in none other than his brother's eyes.


	5. Portions For Foxes

**Author's Note: **I'm loving this story. Honestly, it's so much fun to write. I just _love_ alternate universe. And I'm sick of the show. Season four, ew! That was just a colossal mistake, and lately I've really been missing season one. Sure, I've always liked Brucas tons more than I ever liked Leyton, but it was worth it just to see the quality of the writing and the show and the characters. I hope I can bring some of that back to you.  
Also, sorry this took so long. I was waiting for my new beta to get it back to me, but she kinda went MIA, so I just went with what I had.

**Chapter Five: Portions for Foxes**  
_Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity. - Albert Einstein_

Haley James had been tutoring since her freshman year of high school. It was just something that had sort of happened. Her name had practically written itself upon the sign-up sheet. And now, in her third year at Tree Hill High, she was the most well-known tutor there. She had tutored plenty of students, and never once had she crushed on one her tutees.

Until now.

She wasn't sure what it was exactly about him. He had a good sense of humor, and he had a lot of potential. She loved his face whenever he understood something he didn't think he'd be able to. It lit up and almost looked as if he were feeling like he was worth something. Like he didn't usually feel that way or something.

Nathan Scott. Who was she kidding? She knew, she _knew_ he'd never like her in a million years. He was brother to the star shooting guard of the Tree Hill Ravens. He was popular by association - everyone knew his name. She'd heard some cheerleaders talking about how cute he was this morning, and it had made her look in the mirror and shake her head.

She was Tutor Girl. Her hair was a mousy brown shade, although her mother had always affectionately called it cinnamon. She wasn't model skinny and she certainly didn't have the perfect bone structure guys looked for these days. Her eyes - her best feature, she knew - were big but a boring shade of brown. She thought all these things whenever she looked in the mirror. And now, seated at the Tutor Center, she looked over her outfit self-consciously. She'd worn a plain blue shirt and jeans, definitely nothing like the cleavage-showing red tank-top she'd seen Brooke Davis sauntering around in today.

Nathan was cute, and he was funny and he loved basketball, and he would see her just like everyone else saw her. So why would she even bother being flirtatious or taking a chance? Besides, she didn't take chances. Better safe than sorry, right Hales? Her older sister Taylor's condescending voice filled her ears, and she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, biting her lip.

He was late. He always was. She found herself wondering if he did it on purpose because he knew he could. God, why was she feeling like this? Before, he'd just been another face, someone else she got to help. Now she was feeling _nervous_. She hated it. She wanted it to go back to how it was before.

As the door opened, she sat up a little straighter. Nathan entered with a sheepish smile on his face, a paper bag in his mouth, his backpack in one hand, and a textbook in the other. He set his backpack down, using his free hand to pull the bag from his mouth. "Sorry I'm late."

"You're always late." She said with a knowing smile. Haley watched with interested eyes as Nathan pulled two donuts from the paper bag that he'd been carrying in his mouth just moments before. He had napkins too, and he placed one donut on one of the napkins, sliding it over to her.

"What's this?"

"Uh, some would call it a donut." He winked at her, chuckling a bit at his own wit.

"No, I mean, why'd you get it for me?"

He was frowning now, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Great, he was going to think she was crazy now. She couldn't have just said thanks and left it alone.

She felt her heart relax a bit as the smile appeared on his face once more. "Uh, compensation? For being late?"

"I'm serious." She shoved him playfully and almost instantly realized she was flirting. This was what she did when she flirted.

He shrugged. "Peyton drove me to this place for lunch and they had donuts, and you told me once that chocolate donuts were your favorite, so I just thought I'd get us some brain food."

She knew who Peyton was. Peyton Sawyer. Blonde, a cheerleader, popular. How hadn't she known that Nathan would go for a type like Peyton? Oh _wait_ - she had.

"Peyton," She attempted to sound casual as she said the name aloud. "Are you two, uh.." As she trailed off, she took a bite of the donut he'd gotten her, wondering to herself if Peyton would ever be caught dead eating something with this many calories.

"We're just friends." He said, although she could see in his eyes that he liked her as more than a friend. The way he'd perked up when she'd said her name had been fairly obvious in itself.

"Friends." She repeated softly. Did he think of _them_ as friends?

"What?" Nathan's eyes were focused on hers, and she could tell that he thought she was judging his relationship with Peyton.

"Nothing." Haley said quickly.

"Oh come on. I saw that look in your eyes. Say it. Say whatever you wanted to say." He had now completely abandoned the textbook that he had previously been working on opening to a certain page.

She scoffed. "Please. What am I? Your shrink or your tutor?"

"Sometimes it seems like both." He said honestly, laughing just the slightest bit.

They continued in their work then, pretending that their tutoring hadn't gotten just a little more serious for the moment. Haley talked math equations and Nathan replied with sums and products, and when his look became serious once more, she pretended she did not notice.

"It'd be weird if I liked her," He said suddenly, trying to ask himself probably more than he was actually asking her. "Peyton. Because of who she is, right?"

Haley shrugged, putting her pencil down. "Why? Look at who you are."

-

'_Why? Look at who you are.'_

It had been bothering him for two hours now. Actually, it had been bothering him since Haley had first uttered the words during their tutor session. What was that supposed to mean, anyway? It wasn't like he was popular. He wasn't apart of his brother's world. He'd attended one measly party, and he wasn't even sure Haley had known about it. In fact, he was _positive _she hadn't known about it.

He was at the Rivercourt, shooting basket after basket with his mind running faster than he himself was.

Just because Haley thought he was popular enough to like Peyton Sawyer certainly didn't make it true. Even so, something in his head told him that Peyton was one to look past status and see people for how they truly were. Would she really care that he wasn't captain of the basketball team or the class president? Frankly, he would be quite surprised if she did. Not to mention how much fun he'd had with her at Bevin's party just a few nights before. Sure, the party itself hadn't exactly been a blast, but him and Peyton had talked a lot, and had really just enjoyed the company of each other. Well, at least _he'd_ enjoyed her company. He wasn't really sure what it had been like for her, whether she had enjoyed _his_ company.

To himself, he would admit it. He liked Peyton. He just really didn't think that she liked him. Peyton seemed like the type of girl that could actually successfully be _just_ friends with a guy. Then again, just the fact that he didn't know this for sure worried him. Shouldn't you know someone very well before liking them? Or was this just an attraction? Because sure, Peyton _was _pretty. And he _was _a guy. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

She was more than pretty, though. He didn't like her for her looks, and he knew it.

He heaved a sigh, hurling the ball towards the net. It went in easily, and he couldn't help but smile. He'd always have basketball, no matter what. Maybe his father didn't know that, or his brother, but honestly, basketball was probably more important to him than it was to either of them. For reasons he couldn't even explain.

Nathan sighed as the ball bounced on the ground, rolling until it finally came to a stop. He watched it for a few seconds before picking it up and beginning to travel in the direction of his house.

He dribbled it every so often, trying his hardest not to let his mind bother him too much. All he wanted to do was sleep. Or maybe eat. He couldn't remember doing either in his recent history.

It was just that he couldn't help but think maybe Haley was right. Maybe it _was_ okay for him to like Peyton. Maybe her status didn't matter-- at least not to her, anyway.

He'd never known himself to be confused on whether or not he should like a girl. Actually, he'd never been confused about girls period. He liked who he liked, and he'd never once not told a girl when he _did_ like her, and usually the feelings were reciprocated. He didn't know why this had to be so much different.

He didn't get a chance to mull it over much longer, because just as he crossed the street along River Road, he was nearly plowed over by a speeding car. Tugging his hood off his head and his headphones out of his ears to get a better look, his eyes widened.

Peyton seemed stunned for a second. When he'd first looked up, her eyes had been squeezed shut, as if she'd been preparing for the worst for when she opened them. Now, however, they were simply shocked and wide. It took her a second, but eventually she smiled, sticking her head out her window. "Need a ride?"

"Sure," Nathan shrugged, feeling his heart's pace pick up a bit at the site of her face. "Better to be in your car then under it."

She laughed. "Oh, shut up."

He chuckled a bit, climbing into the passenger seat of her car. "So what are you doing in these parts of town?" She asked once he'd fastened his seatbelt.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. You weren't looking for me, were you?" He was teasing but she looked down and blushed, embarrassed.

"You wish," Her cheeks were still crimson, and he wanted to say, 'yes, I do wish that's what you were doing here', but instead he simply looked out the window, watching the world glide past him in a blur.

Peyton seemed to wait until the moment had been forgotten before she said, "So really, what were you doing there?"

He shrugged, uncomfortable. He didn't talk about the fact that he played basketball at the Rivercourt with anyone except his close friends. It would be weird admitting to a Ravens' cheerleader that although he was probably just as good as his star-of-the-basketball-team brother, he opted to stay at the Rivercourt instead. "Just, you know.."

"Uh, no?" She chuckled a bit, looking over to make eye contact with him, and when their eyes met, he softened.

"I was playing basketball." Nathan admitted quietly.

The blonde girl raised an eyebrow. "Basketball? You play basketball?"

He looked almost self-conscious. "Uh, well, not for the team.."

"Oh, well thank you, Captain Obvious. Because I totally didn't know that." She was laughing now, probably thinking about how weird he was. He suddenly felt very embarrassed.

"It's just," He said seriously, "I play for fun."

"No, I get it." Peyton smiled at him, her eyes telling him that she truly understood.

They were now pulling up to the large brick house that belonged to the Scotts' and he peered into it. The lights were all on, making the house look larger and nice, like a real family lived there. Nathan turned to Peyton, swallowing hard. "Do you want to come in or something? Stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to, but I was actually on my way to Brooke's. Sorry." She lied easily, and he didn't seem to notice, simply nodding.

"Okay, maybe some other time."

"Yeah, that'd be cool." She watched him get out and shut the door, waving at her as she drove off.

She didn't know why she had lied. Thing was, he was a really cool guy. Though he'd admitted to failing almost all of his classes, he was actually really smart. Not to mention both funny and cute could also be added to his list of shining personality traits.

It was just that she really didn't want to go inside that house and see Lucas. It was _weird_. How could she just like Lucas' brother, when a couple years ago it had been him that she'd liked? And was she actually admitting to herself now that she liked Nathan?

Just the fact that he played basketball reminded her too much of her former boyfriend. The reason they'd split, after all, had been basketball. It had caused him to drift away from her. But they had been freshmen! And a romance like that was never meant to last anyway. So why was she making such a big deal out of Nathan playing basketball?

God, her life was confusing.

-

The first thing he heard when he entered the house was his mother's voice. "Nathan, dinner's been ready for over a half hour! You're late!"

She was upset, hands on her hips and a frown on her features. Her short hair was up in a pony-tail, he noticed, which was what she usually did when she was cooking. His father sat beside her, seemingly uninterested in his son as he flipped through the Tree Hill Gazette, a magazine that had been circulating around the town for years. Really, it was just an excuse to gossip. Lucas was gone, it was his week with his mother. He'd forgotten until now, noticing his brother's lack-of-there-being in the kitchen.

The need to defend himself rose, and he said, "Well, maybe if I had a _car_ like every other teenager my age, I _would_ be home on time."

Dan's eyes flickered up towards his son now. "We already talked about this. You aren't getting a car until your grades go up."

"That's ridiculous!" Nathan bellowed, clenching his jaw. "Lucas is failing Trig and you bought _him_ a car _on_ his sixteenth birthday!"

"The fact that Lucas even got _into_ Trig is enough for me," His father said, returning to his magazine. He seemed uninterested again. The conversation was over to him.

"Of course, _dad_," Nathan spoke bitterly. "Because _everything_ Lucas does is enough for you."

He stormed off up the stairs towards his bedroom, slamming the door so loudly Deb could swear she felt the house shake. Dan simply shook his head. "Hormones."

"Actually," Deb was collecting herself a plate of food to take upstairs to their bedroom. "I'm with him on that one."

Dan watched his wife follow in the footsteps their son had taken, eyes gleaming with regret. If only Nathan was like Lucas, he would be more inspired to purchase him cars and presents. Why didn't anyone seem to understand that?

-

When Nathan awoke the next morning, he could hear shuffling in his brother's room. He figured Lucas was back, and his thoughts were confirmed when he heard his brother's familiar cough.

Lucas coughed a lot, he realized. It wasn't really a sick cough. It was more of a nervous cough. He noticed it rarely, but when he did, he always wondered what his brother had to be nervous about. Lucas had everything.

Maybe to the naked eye, Nathan had everything too. He had a stable family and a talent for basketball and money. Neither of those things brought the happiness they probably should have, though, and it was probably because they didn't truly exist. Well, sure, he had money. Yes, he could play basketball. But he'd never played for a real team, except in the junior leagues, and when Dan had begun pressuring Lucas to play, he'd dropped out. His family was far from as stable as it appeared to be.

He had a mother who was constantly busying herself in work, a father who could care less, and a brother who he hardly knew.

And yet separated emotionally, they were all so physically close that it was ridiculous.

He heard Lucas cough again, and he sighed.

This was _not_ how it was supposed to be.


	6. A Run of Bad Luck

**Author's Note: **I didn't have time to read over this because I wanted to get it out to you guys, so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes. Someone PM'd me asking, and this story takes place around the time-frame season one would have. None of that terrible hair in season four ever existed. Hehe. I'm glad everyone seems to be really enjoying the NHP love triangle, which is far from over, let me tell you. Enjoy and reviews would be lovely.

**Chapter Six: A Run of Bad Luck**  
_Be famous. Be a big social experiment in getting what you don't want. Find value in what we've been taught is worthless. Find good in what the world says is evil. I wish the world would embrace what it hates. Find what you're afraid of most and go live there.  
- Chuck Palahniuk _

Lucas bounced the ball twice, staring his father down with his eyes narrowed. Eyes trained only on the net, he ran towards it with such speed he could hear his father's heavy breathing from behind him.

He tossed the ball, but Dan was quick to intercept it from entering the net, knocking Lucas backwards as he grabbed it. Lucas stumbled for just a moment, but was hot on his father's trail.

Dan was not sharing the ball. He held it in his own hands, ignoring the calls of his teammates, dribbling towards the net that would secure his winning streak in Tree Hill.

A boy he had not seen went straight past him, grabbing the ball from his hands as he did. Dan growled, looking off in the direction the boy had gone. It was Jake Jagielski, known on the team for his speed and agility.

Jake had by now tossed the ball back to Lucas, and Dan approached him at full speed, nearly knocking the ball from his hands as they collided. Lucas, clearly frustrated, pushed back, ball still in his hands.

Both teams were watching the heated exchange, each member slowly realizing that this was not just some Father/Son basketball game. This was a one-on-one game between Dan and Lucas Scott, and they were all simply obstacles in the way.

Lucas had by now somehow managed to get himself at an angle that would give him the 3-pointer his team needed to win. Jake was at his side quicker than Dan.

"Luke, ease off."

"No," Lucas shook his head. "I'm not going to let him win. Not this time."

Dan was now attempting to block Lucas, knocking into him every so often. From the stands, Deb and Karen, separated by a multitude of seats and rows, stared horrified at the man's behavior with his own child. The boy seemed used to it, though.

Lucas threw the ball and it flew, poetry in motion. Everyone seemed to stop and watch as it sailed through the air.

This was it. This was Lucas' shot to finally step out of Dan's shoes. It all depended on whether the ball went in..

--

_**Forty-eight hours earlier.. **_

The mellow sounds of Beck filled the air of the art studio, echoing into the adjoining ceramics studio as well. Some students wore i-Pods of their own, while others bobbed their heads approvingly to the music.

Nathan Scott could be lumped into neither category, eyes focused solely on the unfinished art project before him, head bent in concentration.

"You know," Peyton said from beside him. "I never saw you as someone who was really into art. I guess I was wrong."

He looked away from what he'd just seconds ago been painting. "What? I'm not _in_ to art."

She scoffed. "Nathan, you've been working on that for weeks. Doing everything you can to perfect it. You're totally obsessed with it. Don't lie."

Nathan laughed. "I'm not lying! Trust me. You won't be seeing me at any art shows this or any other weekend."

Peyton nudged him with a laugh. "Me either, but I still love art."

"That'd be great. You know, to tell my dad I want to be an artist. 'Hey dad, I know your other son is probably going to be drafted into the NBA sometime soon, but guess what? I'm going to be in my studio with my little canvas painting away if you need me, which, you know, I'm sure you won't.'" He shook his head.

She was staring at him now, having abandoned her marker and board, which were of course, not part of the general art project requirements. "You're jealous," She said slowly, in somewhat surprise.

"What are you talking about?" He had now picked up his paintbrush and continued trying to gently stroke at the sky in his picture. It was hard to gently stroke when your hands were as big as his were. "I'm not jealous."

"You are. Of Lucas."

He snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"Don't do that." Peyton said seriously.

"Do what?"

"Pretend like you don't care." He was avoiding her gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on his work. It took him a second to put down the paintbrush again and look at her.

"Lucas has always been my dad's favorite. I stopped caring about it years ago." Maybe it wasn't the complete truth, but it was true that years ago he'd _tried_ to stop caring. He was almost there.

She was getting a glimpse of a side of him he never showed. She basked in it. "Why is Lucas his favorite?"

"Because he plays basketball. My dad's life revolves around basketball."

"So why didn't he make you play?"

Nathan shrugged. "He tried. But when he tried pushing me, my mom like, totally freaked out and threatened to leave him if he didn't leave me alone. So he did. Completely."

"But," Peyton made a face. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I guess." Nathan had closed up again, picking up his brush once more and going back to work. If he noticed her looking at him, he didn't say a thing.

She sighed, guessing it was time to change the subject. "So, sorry I couldn't come to dinner at your house the other night."

He looked over now, interested. "It's okay. You already had plans."

"Well, maybe we can do it some other night." Peyton offered.

He gave her a shy smile in return. "I was hoping you'd say that."

--

The Ravens' cheerleaders were slacking off. Although their captain usually did not allow for this sort of behavior, Brooke Davis was nursing a serious hangover, and one thing she could not be bothered with today, was cheering.

Instead, the girls were sitting outside the gym gossiping and giggling, while stretching, if you could call sitting down with your hands resting on your knees stretching.

Brooke and Peyton sat together, munching on a bag of fruits Peyton had brought as a snack.

Peyton was half-heartedly listening as she attempted to taste the difference between green and orange melon, and then trying to remember which one was called cantaloupe, but found she could not. It was when she heard Nathan's name that she looked up in interest.

"..Because I was thinking maybe he's just really shy, you know? I honestly think our relationship would be more functioning if I was more forward."

"Brooke," she said, mouth full. "There _is_ no relationship between you and Nathan."

"Well, not yet, but--"

"I just don't think you're really his type." Peyton shrugged.

Brooke rubbed her temples. She didn't need this _now_. Her headache was bad enough. "Whatever. I guess we'll see. Maybe we should get back to practice." She looked around at the remaining girls.

"Brooke--"

"Alright girls, break's over.." There was a collective round of groans, and Brooke laughed in a way Peyton thought was sinister. "Well, shouldn't have joined the cheer squad if you weren't prepared to cheer."

"Brooke," Bevin, who'd always been one of the more flighty cheerleaders, raised a timid hand. "I kind of forgot to bring my pom-poms today."

Theresa mimicked the movement. "So did I."

"This is ridiculous. Were you just expecting us to _not_ use pom-poms today?" Brooke snapped at them.

Both girls shrugged innocently, looking a little timid. Their eyes went to Peyton for reassurance, but seeing as how her comments had set Brooke off, she stood quietly, clutching her own pom-poms to her chest.

"Alright," Brooke sighed and rolled her eyes, feeling her headache begin to get even worse than it had been moments before. "I'll go into the gym and get you guys some of the extras, but I _swear_, if this happens again, you're off the squad. We can't afford to have you 'forgetting' your pom-poms on game day."

Peyton watched her stalk off angrily, and she crossed her arms, looking over at Theresa, who was shaking and near tears. The other girls were trying to comfort her, and she looked back over to the gym, where the doors shut loudly behind Brooke.

As Brooke entered the gym, she fumbled with the keys for the athletic utility closet. It had been a while since she'd had to use these, and she'd forgotten exactly which one opened the door. Murmuring under her breath about how she shouldn't have to be the one doing this, Brooke didn't see Lucas walking towards her until they'd nearly collided.

As their eyes met, Brooke's eyes narrowed. "What, are you stalking me or something?"

His eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? _You're_ in _my_ gym." He was wearing one of the Ravens' white practice jerseys, and he was sweating. They were standing close enough so that she could smell his deodorant.

"Uh, I'm sorry. _Who's_ gym is this?"

He looked defeated for a moment, but came back rather quickly. "You know, I thought Whitey sent you guys to practice _outside_ because you were getting too loud."

But she was quicker. "Actually, he sent us outside because _you_ and your little estrogen-deprived teammates couldn't keep your eyes off of us."

Davis- 1, Scott- 0. ­

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Right. So what are you doing in here now?"

"Well," She placed her hands on her hips. "That's none of your business." She began to saunter off towards the utility closet, but then remembered she didn't know _which_ key opened the damned door.

Tail between her legs, she approached Lucas once more, realizing now that he'd first come towards her because he'd been going to get his water bottle.

He seemed surprised to see her, even though it had been about two seconds since she'd walked away, and he hadn't stopped to turn away from her yet. Maybe it was the fact that she had actually turned around again that had gotten him.

"One more thing," He was waiting for an insult, when she held the keys up in front of his face. "Which of these opens up the athletic utility closet?"

Lucas watched her with an amused smile, pulling the key instantly from the chain. She seemed to be expecting an insult, and he couldn't help but admit that he liked astounding her, so he sent her on her way with a simple smile. It was all worth it for the look on her face.

As Brooke walked off, he heard his name called. Whitey was staring at him with a practically non-existent eyebrow raised. "Well, well Scott. Now that we've affectively held practice up so you could get a sip of water, would you mind if we returned to our basketball practice?"

He laughed, jogging back towards the group. "Sorry, Coach."

"Alright, well," The much older man returned his gaze to his clipboard, and then looked up at his team. "Why don't you all take a seat for a minute? I've got to talk to you about the Father-Son basketball game."

"Right, because it's not like we don't do it every year." Someone said, and there were a few snickers from around.

"Right, because it's not like I won't shove my foot up your ass if you don't shut up!" Whitey had always had a pretty low tolerance for speaking out, _especially_ when it was speaking out against something he really didn't want to be bothered with explaining.

He cleared his throat, beginning again. "Okay. So the game is in two days, and as far as _I_ know, everyone's fathers and themselves will be present, yes?" There was silence around him. "Well, I'm just going to take that as a yes. Anyone that can't come better come anyway, and that's all I'm saying about this so you girls can get back to skirt-chasing on the court. Okay?"

--

Mouth McFadden rested his head against the wooden surface of the table, squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment, he sat up, looking over at his companion.

"I have never gotten so little sleep in my life as I did last night."

His companion, who turned out to be Haley James, gave him a sympathetic smile. He had known Haley for almost over two years now. They had met because they were both tutors, and they'd been friends instantly, bonding over the fact that they enjoyed tutoring, when most others did it just for the credits it gave them.

At the moment, since the tutoring center was empty, the two sat side by side, eating chips and drinking soda from the vending machines just outside.

"How come?" She asked after a moment, popping a chip into her mouth.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I think I'm an insomniac. Nathan says my brain is just always working-"

"Wait, did you just say Nathan?" She stopped him, one hand hanging in the air like one of those people that directed traffic.

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Nathan Scott? I'm his tutor."

"Seriously?" Mouth made a face. "I totally forgot he was getting tutored. Shows what kind of friend I am, I guess."

"I didn't know you and Nathan were friends." She was prying slyly, as she always managed to. She found it oddly pleasing to hear that Mouth and Nathan were friends. She'd always assumed Nathan just hung out with at least _some_ of the popular kids. Mouth, who was a dear friend to her, she knew was far from popular.

"Best friends, basically. I've known him since we were kids. He's a really good guy." Mouth nodded, sure of himself.

She pretended to seem uninterested, but inside, she was asking millions of questions. She wanted to know everything about Nathan Scott.

--

The café doors jingled, and Karen stared in disbelief at the man who was entering.

It was a rare occurrence that she saw Dan Scott, despite the fact that he was the father of her son, and surely attended every basketball game she did. When Lucas had been younger, things had been different. Birthday parties and obligatory Parent-Teacher conferences had lumped them together. However, as Luke had grown older, his parents had seen less and less of each other, her only reminder of Dan these days being Lucas' eyes and the monthly alimony check she got in the mail.

Today she guessed, was one of those rare occurrences. God, he was handsome, she noticed. With his hair messy and ruffled, his face a few days unshaven, standing before her with his tie loosened, she could remember why she'd initially fallen in love with him.

"Dan," Her voice must have mirrored her surprised expression, because a lazy smile soon made it's way onto his features, and when she looked down at his extended hands, she realized he was holding her alimony check.

"Karen, hey. Thought I'd bring this to you." He pressed it into her hands.

"You usually mail it." She said lamely, the surprise having yet to wear off of her.

"Yeah, but I was wondering if you were planning on attending the Father-Son basketball game, so I thought I'd just bring it you, so I could ask." It was strange thing for him to be 'wondering', but she did not ask questions. She and Dan were civil, and he had asked her a simple question she could easily answer.

Karen shook her head slowly. "I don't think I'll be going. It's not really an important game or anything, and the café could really use me." She could remember the Father-Son basketball game years before where Royal and Dan had played, and she had been cheering so loud for her boyfriend her voice was hoarse for the next three days.

"You should go." He said, and she was a fourteen year old girl being invited to a game by a fourteen year old boy who had somehow been good enough to be put on the varsity team as a freshman once again.

"Maybe," She offered, and then set down the coffee pot that she'd been holding since he'd first walked in. "Have you heard from Keith?"

His face fell at the mention of his brother, or maybe it was _her_ mentioning his brother. Either way, he replied with a quiet, "Not in a few months."

"Oh, okay," She gestured towards the check in her hands. "Thanks."

For a moment it seemed he would leave her in peace, but then it seemed he was searching for something to say. "How about a cup of coffee?"

She smiled softly. "Sure."

--

Peyton's fingers had always been quicker than her mind. She drew before she'd let herself think, and when she _did_ think, it was because of what her fingers were creating.

Her mind was racing tonight, meaning her fingers were going faster. She wasn't sure what she wanted anymore, but she knew one thing.

She didn't want Brooke to have Nathan. That meant something, didn't it? Did she want him for herself?

She exhaled as her hand slowly came to a stop on the pad of paper, and when she pulled away, her eyes widened.

She could recognize that dark hair and those eyes anywhere.

It took her just a second to stand and grab her keys, leaving the room behind before her mind could convince her of doing otherwise.

--

Lucas' fingers worked furiously over the little game, and as Nathan entered the kitchen, he paused to survey his half-brother, thoroughly confused. It looked too big to be a Gameboy, unless said Gameboy had been invented in the 19th century.

"What's that?" He couldn't help but ask as he pulled a soda from the refrigerator, hesitantly taking a seat beside his brother at the counter.

Lucas gave a sheepish smile as he dropped the game down. "Classic basketball."

Nathan chuckled. "I should have assumed as much."

His brother looked over at him now, eyebrows raised. "You know, when we were kids, dad couldn't get you away from one of these things if he bribed you with candy. _You_ were obsessed."

"You know, I don't remember that." He scratched his head slowly.

"Please," Lucas scoffed. "It was when you went through that phase where you wore dinosaur pajamas every single day. They were your other obsession."

Nathan laughed heartily. "Oh God, I'd completely forgotten about that. It was when _you_ were going through your Elmo stage."

"I never went through an Elmo stage." Lucas squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassing memories suddenly seeping through his brain.

"Oh come on, man. It was when we shared a room. I would remember."

"Why _did_ we share a room anyway?" Lucas teased, eyes gleaming with revenge.

Nathan murmured something inaudible under his breath, and Lucas shot him look, inspiring him to say the slightest bit louder, "I was a little afraid of the darkdude, you _know_ why.."

"I know, but it's much funnier to hear you say it yourself," Lucas thought for a moment, remembering when they'd been young and Nathan would often climb into bed him, and they'd talk all night long. "What did you do when I was at my mom's?" He asked curiously.

"Slept with mom and dad." Nathan admitted with a slightly sheepish smile.

The blonde Scott boy suppressed a laugh, quite able to picture that in his mind. "It was until you were like, nine, huh?"

"Uh, try seven."

"Yeah, but you'd still come into my room sometimes when we were older because you were scared."

"You know," Nathan made a face Lucas could not recognize. "It's weird. You're only like three months older than me. But I remember when we were young, I always thought you were so much older."

"Me too," Lucas agreed with a nod. "I always told people you were my little brother."

"I _am_ your little brother."

"Most people don't count three months."

Nathan couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, our family didn't really do things traditionally."

"No kidding." They were both laughing now, and Lucas realized after a moment that him and Nathan were having a moment. They were being real _brothers_. He liked this. He wanted to ask Nathan why they didn't do exactly _this_ more, but he felt it would ruin their moment.

He didn't have to ruin the moment anyway, because the doorbell rang, ruining it for him.

Nathan looked slightly perturbed that something had broken this conversation as well, and when his mother called for him to answer it from upstairs, he gave an apologetic smile as he stood.

He opened the door, a look of confusion spreading over his handsome features. Blonde curls, large hazel eyes, leather jacket - none other than Peyton Sawyer stood before him, looking more confused than he felt.

"I was wondering if," she paused, biting her lip, "that offer for dinner was still open."

It took him a second to fully comprehend what she said, but when he did, he held the door open with a crooked smile. Hands shoved deep into her jean pockets, she gave him a nervous smile.

The two of them walked timidly to the kitchen, exchanging looks every so often. Things had never been weird for them, except for right now it seemed. He felt like they were on a first date or something.

By the time they'd reached the kitchen, Lucas was setting up for dinner, and Deb was cooking.

"Uh, mom," he cleared his throat. "Can Peyton stay for dinner?"

Both blondes in the room snapped their heads towards him and Peyton, and Deb smiled widely. "Yes, of course. Lucas, will you set an extra place?"

Lucas suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable, quite the opposite of what he had before. "Uh, I won't need to. I actually wasn't planning on staying for dinner. Team's going out for pizza." He explained.

Nathan seemed disappointed. They had _just_ seemed to be getting along. Lucas was sure not to look at him as he left the kitchen. He especially kept his gaze averted from Peyton.

He wasn't sure exactly what he felt for her anymore, but he didn't want to stick around to find out.

Especially not when she was there to see his brother.

--

"Okay, so if AC plus B equals.." Haley trailed off, realizing that Nathan's eyes were glazing over as she attempted to work through a problem with him. "So, did you get that?"

He seemed to be on auto-pilot, barely blinking as he said, "Yup."

"Okay," Haley nodded, eyes narrowed. "So, next, I've decided we'd go to a Sheryl Crow concert, and do some math problems there."

"Sounds good."

"Uh-huh, and then I was planning on shaving my head.."

"Okay."

".. And starting my own religion, Haleyism."

"Right."

"Oh, so do you want to go kill ourselves together?"

"Yeah, okay."

She rolled her eyes, using all the force she could muster up to shove him out of his day-dream. He seemed to shake himself out of it after a moment, and she relaxed when she saw his eyes return to their normal, un-glazed state.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" She questioned with a small smile.

Nathan simply scratched his head. "I don't really know. I mean," he paused for a moment, then sighed loudly. "Okay, do you remember how we were talking about Peyton the other day?"

"Of course." Haley spoke in a clipped tone, but she had a feeling Nathan did not notice as he continued.

"Right, well, I think that I--well, I _know-- _that I might.."

"Spit it out, Nathan."

"Ilikeher." He'd said it so quickly it had come out as one word, and as she pulled it apart to understand what he'd said, she felt her heart drop deeper inside her chest.

She said nothing, and he searched her face for a response. "Hales? Come on, I need your advice. You're like, the only girl I know _besides_ Peyton, and-"

Haley cut him off, smiling as falsely as she possibly could. "This is fantastic."

"Uh, it is?" He gulped.

"Yeah!" She'd never had such fake enthusiasms for something before in her _life. _She deserved an Academy Award for this. "It's really great. You like her, I'm _sure_ she likes you-"

"Wait," Nathan frowned. "How are you sure?"

_Because __**I **__do, _she said to herself, and to him she said, "Because she'd be crazy not to."

He blushed, and she continued. "You should go for it. Make a move."

He was silent for a moment, and then something seemed to sink in, and he turned to look at her with a frown on his features. "_Haleyism_?"

--

"_You should go for it. Make a move." _

Her earlier words haunted her thoughts as she sat in English later that day, trying and failing miserably to concentrate on whatever the teacher was discussing. Her focus was stuck on Nathan, herself, and her utter stupidity.

Why would she _encourage_ him to make a move on another girl when she liked him herself? This was her being her usual Haley-self, never ever thinking for a moment that he would like her back, and completely blowing her chances, straight off the bat.

Not that she'd ever have a chance, but-- here she went again! She needed to stop thinking so little of herself if she ever wanted a guy like Nathan, or _any_ guy for that matter, to like her back.

".. Haley annnnnd, let's see here," Mrs. Rose looked over her little chart, and then nodded. "Lucas Scott."

Haley's eyes widened. This was just exactly what she needed. To be paired up for some project with her crush's brother. The Gods' seriously had it out for her.

She couldn't help but tip her head up towards the ceiling, mumbling a sarcastic, "Thanks."

"Did you say something?" Her attention was brought forward by a tall, blonde boy with a slight resemblance to Nathan Scott, and she felt her face grow hot as she sat lower in her seat.

"I was.. nevermind."

He made a face. "Ook-ay."

Lucas took a seat at the desk in front of her, already thinking she was crazy. She bit her lip, noticing the book in his hands suddenly with curiosity. He sighed.

"The Catcher in the Rye," Haley read aloud.

He looked down at its worn cover, the effect of having been previously owned by his father. "Yeah. Have you read it?"

"Are you kidding? Like, six times."

"Me too." He smiled warmly, leaning unconsciously a bit forward.

She didn't know why, but she had a feeling, at this very moment, that she and Lucas Scott would become close friends.

"Do you like," she pursed her lips, thinking for just a second. "To Kill a Mockingbird?"

"Yeah! Everyone in English last year _hated_ it--"

"--So, you pretended to hate it too." She finished for him, nodding along.

"Exactly!"

"Same here. It was.."

And so it began.

--

"Hi sweetie," Deb spoke to him as he entered the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. "I washed your jersey for you. Figured you might need it." She gave a small chuckle, and Lucas smiled appreciatively.

"Thanks. Are you coming to the game tonight?" He asked her with a somewhat hopeful glance, knowing his own mother would most likely not be attending.

She checked her watch. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course. I just need to drop by the office first for an hour or so, and then I'll be there." Deb worked as an Events Coordinator, and during the week was quite busy during the day.

As he opened his mouth to speak, his father's voice cut him off. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone's ready to get schooled tonight."

Deb and Lucas simultaneously rolled their eyes. "You wish." Chortled Lucas.

Dan approached his son, slapping his back lightly. "Well, the only reason you _would_ win is because I'm basically going to have to carry my entire team on my shoulders…"

Lucas chose this point to block his father out, suddenly deciding to see this as a _real_ game, and not just something fun the Booster Club had been doing since long before time had begun. He stretched his arms over his head, watching his father's lips move and his step-mother's smile droop slowly off her features.

--

The ball missed the net by far, and Nathan didn't even care to see it as he watched it bounce into Peyton Sawyer's pretty little hands. She approached him slowly, looking around at the Rivercourt and all it had to offer him, obviously not understanding it herself.

She threw him the ball and he caught it, but made no effort to shoot it towards the net, his eyes only on her as she came to stand beside him.

"Shouldn't you be at the game?" He asked her, and she leaned up to kiss him.

--

The Ravens were by no surprise winning, and if Lucas knew his father at all, he knew that he was very, _very_ pissed off. The other parents were not taking this a quarter as seriously, laughing as their children scored on them and beat them quite embarrassingly. Dan Scott was certainly an exception to all these fathers, his scowl growing deeper with each basket Lucas made.

Lucas couldn't help but laugh at this. He found it amusing. A team member passed him the ball, and Lucas sailed towards the net. Just as he reached up an arm to complete a lay-up, he felt a much bigger body he knew to be his father's ram into him, sending him down on the ground.

He felt bile rise in his throat and his nose felt as if it had been broken, but he managed to stand up, with the help of Jake Jagielski, who patted his back reassuringly. The ref had called a foul, and as he looked into the crowd in search of Deb's response, his eyes landed instead on his mother's horrified gaze.

He was thrown the ball, and he caught his father's undeniable smirk.

God, he was going to _kick_ his ass.

--

"Luke, ease off." Jake's voice filled his ears, and he might have listened had he still not been shaking from his father's foul.

"No. I'm not going to let him win. Not this time." He heard himself speak these words, and his eyes were stuck on the basket, and he _knew_ that if he didn't make this shot, his father would never let him live it down. Even if Lucas were to _let_ him win, it would not be enough.

This was between Lucas and Dan, and if Lucas made this shot, it would prove he was a better player than Dan. His father was doing everything to block him, and Lucas tried not to think as he shot the ball.

His breath hitched in his throat as he watched the ball. He fell to his knees in anticipation, and even as the ball went through the net and everyone went wild, cheering out his name, he still felt that the war was not won. The battle maybe, but he had not beat his father by a long shot.

Not yet.


	7. Forget The World

**Author's Note: **WOW, I'm so so so sorry it took me so long to write this. I had major writer's block, but this chapter kind of opened up my eyes as to how much I really like this story. It's so different and AU, and I just love writing it. I loved a lot of the reviews I got, _especially_ the ones that got really in depth. And yeah, enjoy. I'll try to get the next update out much sooner, I promise.

**Chapter Seven: Forget The World**  
_If I lay here, if I just lay here,  
Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?  
We'll do it all, Everything  
On our own_**  
**_ -- Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars_

"No way!" Unconsciously, Haley reached up to pull her hair into a messy pony-tail, her eyes staying focused on Nathan as he told her his story.

"Yeah, I mean, I was up _all_ night. My mom was so pissed. She kept saying that she couldn't believe my dad would elbow his own son, and I guess Karen was so mad that she took Lucas home for the night, even though it was his weekend at our house.." Nathan's used his hands, she noticed, when he spoke. Depending on what he was saying, his gestures would often get less or more intense. "..Then he told her that he'd apologized to Lucas after the game because it was, you know, heat of the moment or whatever, and he _still_ ended up sleeping on the couch."

"Ouch," Haley chuckled softly, and he did the same. It was funny how his parents fighting didn't really seem to phase him. If her own parents were to argue, it would certainly be a big deal. Jimmy and Lydia James rarely fought, and if they did, the fights were never too heated.

He shrugged. "He'll be back in his own bed tonight. Mom never kicks him out for more than a night. Plus, he's done a _lot_ worse than elbow Lucas."

"Really?"

"Well, I mean not a lot worse, but he's done this before. The last Father-Son basketball game was a disaster."

The tutoring center was buzzing softly, due to the fact that today, they were not the only people inside it. A few other tables were occupied, and Nathan was slightly embarrassed by it.

"So," Haley said after a moment of silence had passed. "What'd you do last night?"

Nathan hesitated, but could not manage to stifle the smile that began to reach the corner of his lips. "I.. hung out with Peyton. We, um, I don't know." He was blushing furiously.

Haley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Or maybe cry. She couldn't help but feel disappointed. And truthfully, she wanted _so_ bad not to like Nathan. It was just that the more time she spent with him, the _more_ she liked him. Maybe this whole tutoring thing wasn't the best idea. Instead of telling Nathan her thoughts, she said, "That's cool. Are you two together now?"

"No," he shrugged.

"Are you like, together but not official?"

"I don't know-- uh, no, I guess." Suddenly he had closed up. It seemed he no longer wanted to discuss it, and she figured it was because he really didn't _know_ where he and Peyton stood.

She assumed it'd be up to her to break the silence. She racked her brain for conversation starters, when an image of Lucas suddenly popped into her mind. "Oh my God, I forgot to tell you," She began, and she knew she'd gotten his attention when he looked up in interest. "Guess who my partner is in English, for this project we're doing?"

"I give up." He made a face.

"Your brother!"

"My-- Lucas?" The expression on his face nearly caused her to laugh. He seemed extremely shocked. Like this was the last name he'd been expecting to hear.

"Yeah. It's weird, but we have a lot of the same interests."

Nathan sighed. "Yeah, that _is_ weird."

"Who would have known. Haley James, tutor and star basketball player of the Tree Hill Ravens, Lucas Scott _actually_ have quite a bit in common?" She joked, and he laughed, but it was hollow.

---

The two girls, so intensely different in looks, but both gorgeous in their own way, sat facing each other, legs stretched out in front of them. Whenever the cheerleaders stretched, Brooke and Peyton were _always_ without fail partners. It had been that way since they'd begun cheering together years before.

As they stretched, the girls also talked. At the moment, they were speaking of something that others were most likely speaking of as well: Dan Scott's annual charity league party for the Tree Hill Ravens. Though it was mainly an excuse for people to suck up to him, everyone always went. It was simply tradition. Plus, Brooke and Peyton usually managed to enjoy themselves.

Peyton bit her lip, stretching her arm over her head. "I'll probably pick you up at like, five. Or four-thirty. Depends--"

"Wait," Brooke frowned. "Aren't we getting ready together?"

"Oh, do you want to?"

"Um," it wasn't like it was some big surprise. "We do it every year."

Peyton shrugged. "Right. Sorry. My mind is totally somewhere else today."

The moment landed the two friends in an awkward moment, something that rarely happened between them. Brooke felt suddenly uncomfortable, and found herself needed to say something to break this silence.

"So, do you think Nathan will be there?"

"I don't know, it _is_ his house." Her answer was so clipped, dripping with _such_ annoyance. She seemed so disturbed by Brooke suddenly, and this frightened the Davis girl intensely.

Instantly, she dropped it.

She always did. If Peyton seemed annoyed with her, really, _really_ annoyed, Brooke would end the conversation. She knew she was lucky to have a friend like Peyton. A real one. She wouldn't risk that just so she could get the answers she wanted or sometimes needed. Peyton could leave in a second, and Brooke was fully aware. In fact, it was one of the things that she worried about most.

Everyone in her life had always left. Whether it be her parents, or boys, Brooke had never had someone that had stayed. Except for Peyton. So if keeping her meant not pressing issues she should not press, she wouldn't press.

Popularity could be gone from her in moments. People could turn their backs on her. The one person she counted on not to do this was Peyton, and still, she was _so_ afraid that their friendship would not always be there.

Behind all the makeup and smiles, Brooke Davis was terrified.

---

"This is going to be hard," Haley exhaled as she looked over the 'Project Description' sheet that she and Lucas had been given.

Lucas nodded. "Well, we're definitely going to have to meet up out of school sometimes. Fifty-five minutes isn't long enough for us to fully develop this."

She found herself surprised, still, at Lucas' wit. He was definitely not a brainless jock. He was probably even smarter than her. He _read_ for pleasure. She'd never met a person at this high school that did that. And while she sometimes found herself enjoying a good book, she read mostly so she could get educated, not for actual _enjoyment_. She found herself wondering how many of his friends knew this little tidbit about him.

"How about this weekend?" She suggested after a moment, noticing that she'd gone too long without speaking, so indulged in her own crazy mind.

He made a face. "Actually, this weekend isn't good for me. My dad's hosting his annual kiss-his-ass party."

"Sounds," she crinkled her nose, "really disgusting."

"Yeah. It's supposed to be this charity basketball league thing. Not a big deal. But my presence is still required." Lucas shrugged, taking a moment to look at the clock. Only eight minutes were left in the class.

"Sucks," and before she could stop herself: "Will Nathan be there?"

"How do you know Nathan?" He looked at her, genuinely interested.

Where to begin? Should she start with the fact that she liked him or that they often talked about his relationship with Peyton, therapy-style? "I tutor him."

"Oh," He nodded with a smile. "Yeah, he has to go. Forced every year against his will."

Silently, she wondered why Nathan had not invited her. Had it been because he was inviting Peyton? She-- no, she would not allow herself to do this. Nathan and her were _acquaintances _merely brought together by the fact that she was tutoring him. Of course he wouldn't invite her. He wouldn't invite her to anything. She didn't mean anything to him. If it came down to it, and he had to choose between being friends with _her_ or Peyton, she knew he'd pick Peyton. No hesitation.

"You should come." Lucas suggested it casually, clearly addressing her as a friend.

She nearly burst out laughing. _Lucas_ considered her to be enough of a friend so that he could invite her, but Nathan _didn't_? God, she needed to get out of this classroom.

"Thanks, but I'm not sure I'm going to want to kiss your dad's ass." As she said it, he laughed heartily, and she realized she'd been wrong all along about Lucas Scott.

---

Deb Scott looked around at her house, transformed from a home to a party, complete with decorations and a set-up bar. She watched with an unveiled smirk as her husband flirted with a bartender, young enough to be perhaps his daughter.

She approached her husband, guiding him away from the girl with a mumble about needing to speak to him.

Having just barely made up, Deb forced a smile, helping him adjust his tie. "You ready for tonight."

He looked around the room with an aloofness that reminded her of both her son and step-son. "Always am."

Footsteps thumped closer towards them, and both looked in the direction of their dark-haired son, who appeared in a dressy blue button up shirt and dark chinos.

"Nathan," Deb smiled at her son appreciatively, but his gaze shifted awkwardly towards his father.

"Dad, this is lame. Why do I have to go to this stupid thing? I'm not even on the basketball team. I mean.. I really shouldn't have to go."

Deb winced and braced herself for the argument that was sure to ensue; Nathan and Dan had this exact same fight every year, and every year, Nathan was forced to attend the event despite his best attempts.

She was surprised however, when her husband allowed a dimpled smile to spread over his features. Wordlessly, the man reached into his pockets, pulling out a set of car keys. They dangled in front of Nathan's face teasingly, and the Scott boy reached for them blindly.

Dan pulled the keys away, his grin deepening. "It all depends on your behavior tonight, son."

Reluctantly, Nathan forced himself to nod. "You know," He said, not able to help himself. "I don't remember you bribing _Lucas_."

Dan bobbed his head. "You know, I don't remember _you_ having enough money to buy _yourself _a car."

Though he looked clearly frustrated, Nathan did not reply, opting instead to back away.

--

Karen Roe closed the door of Dan Scott's house behind her as she entered, and she shivered involuntarily. She wasn't quite sure what crazy thing inside her had inspired her to come, and even more so, to come_alone_. With a deep breath, she pushed herself forward.

"Well, well. If it isn't Karen Roe." The voice behind her was quiet and soft, that of a familiar person. Instantly, she could tell by the accent and tone that it was Whitey Durham, her son's basketball coach and mentor.

Allowing her timid smile to soften up, she looked towards him. "Whitey."

"I have to say," the older man placed his hand gently on the small of her back, guiding her deeper inside. "I'm quite surprised to see you here."

She laughed. "You know me and Dan are on good terms, right?"

"Well sure," he nodded. "But still, it's gotta be some kind of strange walking into this house. And I can't say I can remember ever seeing you at any of his functions."

"It's certainly new for me." She admitted quietly, wondering if her uncertainty was _that _obvious.

Whitey laughed. "Well, I'm glad you came," he lowered his voice. "I don't find much interest in any of the other parents. They're all just here to kiss Danny's ass. Something _I_ don't personally enjoy doing."

"I'd hoped I'd see Lucas. I don't see enough of him these days. Partially because of _your_ doing." Karen teased him with a nudge. The coach laughed and she continued. "How is he? I mean, you're his coach. I'm sure you know him better than I do, or even his father. Basketball is his life."

They were rounding the foyer, so the rest of the house and it's occupants lingering on the patio were coming into view. "You're right," Whitey nodded, "basketball is certainly one of the hugest parts of his life. Maybe even _the_ hugest. He works himself hard."

"Too hard?" She raised an eyebrow worriedly.

"Hard enough," Whitey sighed. "Sometimes it's maybe too hard. But he's got a good head on his shoulders. I trust his judgment."

"Well, I'm his mother. Of course you'll tell me that."

The man shook his head. "No, ma'am. I don't try to pull any wool over anyone's eyes. He's a good kid, Karen. You raised him well. It's only his father I worry about sometimes."

She had no opportunity to ask him to clarify, because soon, he was enveloped in a crowd of Raven parents, asking him questions about the season that he would probably have no trouble answering.

As she drifted away from the coach slowly, her eyes seemed to instinctively travel towards a light haired person that didn't particularly look like he fit into the crowd, despite his status as the team captain and overall social king.

"Hey kid."

Her son looked up to meet her eyes, and he smiled widely. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

Karen's heart swelled at the sight of her son, and she allowed him to lift her into a tight hug.

"Bet you didn't expect to see me here." Her words were muffled by his shirt, but she didn't mind, really. She was just happy that he cared enough to squeeze her this tightly.

"Have you ever even been here?" Lucas laughed softly.

Karen pulled away from him, chuckling herself. She slapped him on the arm. "Of course I have! When you were a kid, I didn't just drop you off down the street!"

"Ouch, ma," He winced. "How was I supposed to know? I can probably _count_ the times I've remembered you and dad having a conversation."

She forced a smile on her face, looking around at her former lover's large home. "Yeah," Karen spoke quietly. "How hard is it to believe that once we were inseparable?"

--

"Sarah Williams _totally _got a nose job." A series of nods and murmurs of agreement began right as Brooke finished her statement. Peyton was the only one of the group who did not comment, instead choosing to look over the group of people she openly called her friends. She was so… _different_ compared to them. She didn't _care_ who had gotten plastic surgery, or who had cheated on whose wife, and she couldn't understand why _they_ did. Why they _thrived_ on it.

In their small town, news like this ran rampant, affecting most social groups alike. For a moment, Peyton pictured their picturesque, wealthy, small town, and she felt a slight tug at her heart. Tree Hill was not living up to the expectations she'd once had for it.

Longingly, her eyes drifted from the group of teenagers towards the house, illuminated by lights. She searched for Nathan, and gave a disappointed sigh when she could not find him.

"Brooke," She interrupted whoever was speaking to her, and her best friend's loyalty was strong and apparent as she turned away from the other girl to face her. "I'm going to get something to drink." Brooke winked, and Peyton was glad her friend hadn't asked to come along as she walked away.

Luckily for her, she didn't need to search through the house for too long. Nathan sat on one of the oversized, living room couches, looking bored out of his mind as he fiddled with his tie.

"Hey." He looked up in surprise upon hearing the greeting.

"Hey," he greeted warmly with a smile, patting the seat beside him.

"So… cool party." He laughed as she said this, shaking his head slowly. He wasn't sure where they stood now, after that kiss and that_night_. It was strange between them, but for some reason, it was a _good_ kind of strange.

"Well, it is now."

Peyton laughed. "Nice line."

"But it's true." Nathan told her, and she felt her insides begin to turn to mush. This thing between them was certainly new for her. Peyton Sawyer didn't really _do_ relationships. Most guys didn't even want to bother with her because she wasn't the typical, bubbly cheerleader. Sure, they cat-called her, they tried to hook up with her, some even hit on her… but there were hardly ever guys that were just real with her.

A blush crept on her face, and she looked down, desperate to avoid eye contact with him. "So… last night."

"A good night." The tone of his voice when he'd said it had her laughing, and soon, the blushes of their faces had disappeared, and conversation was flowing much easier.

Off in the distance, cup of vodka and cranberry juice held firmly in her fingers, Brooke felt something close to jealousy surge through her veins. Maybe she was a bit - okay, a lot - tipsy because of the drink, but hadn't Peyton told her she wasn't interested in Nathan? Heaving a sigh, she stumbled over to Theresa.

"Let's make this party more interesting, shall we?" The girl linked arms with her instantly, clearly feeling honored to be Brooke's second choice after Peyton.

"What'd you have in mind?" She said gleefully.

"Just get everyone outside in the basketball court. You know, _away_ from all the adults." Brooke winked, and was off, swaying slightly and giggling as she went. In her mind, she wasn't sure what she felt at the moment; was it anger or confusion? Or perhaps hurt? Of course Peyton would tell her she was going to get a drink, and then end up flirting with Nathan Scott… leaving Brooke alone. One of these days, Brooke reasoned, _she_ wanted to be the one to leave. Just to show Peyton how it felt.

As the Tree Hill High students filtered into Nathan and Lucas' backyard, Brooke kept her eyes trained on Peyton and Nathan, who came out together, sober and happy - the exact opposite of what she was right now.

"So, everyone," she grinned, wobbling slightly on her heels. "I called you all out here for a little game of truth or dare! Who's in?" A series of cheers met her ears, and Nathan and Peyton exchanged nervous smiles.

"Alright, um, Bevin! You first."

"_Dare_, obviously."

Brooke gave her friend an evil beam. "Go give Dan Scott a kiss on the cheek, and make it _flirtatious._"

The tall, blonde girl shrugged easily. "_Please_. I'd do that voluntarily. He's a total hottie."

"Not sure I've ever heard someone use that phrase, but good for you! Off you go!" Everyone laughed at her wit, and for a moment, Brooke felt as if she were on top of the world. It was things like _this_ she lived for; being loved, being popular. She didn't think people really cherished it quite like she did.

"Brooke, kiss me!" Tim shouted suddenly, gaining attention from his surrounding basketball friends, who shook their heads in disbelief and chortled at him.

"Uh, why would I?"

"As a dare!"

"_I'm_ making up the dares here, Timmy. No dice." She couldn't help but notice Lucas' absence from the group. Perhaps he was off sucking up to his daddy. Wait, what was she thinking? Of course he was!

"Now, where was I?" She pretended to think out loud, eyes casting "innocently" over the crowd of people. "Oh, okay. How about you, Nathan?"

Nathan gulped. Either way, he figured he was screwed. But at least with a dare, he'd probably be licking the ground and not telling the world he liked Peyton. "Uh… dare?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," She flashed him a smile. "So, your dare. Hmm. Oh, I've got it! Kiss me!" Maybe she wasn't quite as smooth as she thought, but still, kissing Brooke Davis was an honor.

"Uh…" The crowd was suddenly silent, eyes trained on Brooke and then Nathan, interested to see what would occur next._ They_ certainly all knew kissing Brooke was an honor.

Still, as Brooke waited, shifting uncomfortably because Nathan was _still_ about twenty feet from her, and was making no move to come towards her, she felt suddenly as if she was _too_ drunk and she might throw up.

"No thanks, Brooke. I'll um, pass."

The smile dropped from her face, and all around them, people were 'ooh-ing' and whispering loudly and Peyton was trying to conceal the feeling of happiness inside her and Brooke was sure _then_ that she would throw up.

She was so humiliated. She looked around at the teenagers there, laughing at her. And suddenly, she was running inside the house, not even caring how stupid she looked because she figured, it couldn't anymore stupid than she _already_ looked.

If she would have turned around, she would have seen the shocked expressions on the students, Nathan's look of shame, Peyton's of confusion, and Tim's… which mirrored hers almost exactly.

--

Brooke stumbled up the stairs of the Scott household, tears streaming down her face. She looked from door to door, confused. She needed to lie down _right_ now, and she didn't even care if it was in Dan Scott's bed.

She pushed a door open and took notice of the basketball on the ground, a few toy dinosaurs that lined the walls, books, and a poster for some band she'd never heard of.

It was Nathan's room, she figured. And as much as she hated him at that moment, she didn't care.

She allowed herself to fall onto the bed, and she clutched her knees to her chest, allowing herself to cry her drunkenness away.

--

Karen held her white wine close to her chest, scared to move an inch in fear that she'd move something out of place, or cause any other sort of attention to herself. For most of the evening, Lucas had been at her side, until she'd forced him to go with his friends; he didn't need to be wasting his social life as a youth beside his_mom_.

Of course someone would bump into her. And of course, when she'd turn around, she'd see that it was Deb Scott; the woman that robbed her of this life. Or perhaps the woman that saved her from Dan.

"Sorry." She said, though it was not her fault.

"Oh, no, _I'm _sorry. I completely ran into you." She had but Karen did not say this because it appeared the woman was as nervous as she was.

"That's okay." She wanted to click her glass slippers and get the _hell_ out of there. Pronto.

"I was actually trying to build up enough courage to come up and talk to you anyway," Deb laughed nervously. "I um, you and I don't really talk."

"Yes, I've realized." She was trying to be polite as she could, but this was plain _weird_.

"I personally think that should change. I mean, Lucas is with me half the time. I know him… well, I think I know him pretty well. It's weird to me that someone I consider to be my son has another mother I know nothing about." Karen felt a mixture of emotions come at her. Relief - that Deb wasn't a horrible monster. Since she'd spoken to her only courteously, and even then only rarely, she was glad to know that Deb seemed to have a good personality. Jealousy - because no other woman beside her should have the right to call Lucas a son. Lucas was _hers_. Deb had Nathan, so why did she need Lucas as well? And then there was that feeling she could not explain. One that told her Deb wanted to be friends.

"It's hard. We - Dan and I - we have too much history for us to be one big, happy family."

"I don't expect us to be one big, happy family. But maybe friends?" Deb shrugged, and she really was trying.

Karen smiled. "Well, I guess that'd be okay. Maybe a little long-overdue. After all, you're right. Our boys are brothers and we're complete strangers. That doesn't really make sense to me."

"Good. So, can I get you a drink?"

--

Lucas was bored. Completely out-of-his-mind bored. His friends laughed as they talked about something that had happened earlier - he really didn't care enough to find out what - and he stared at the basketball hoop with a longing; wishing they'd leave so he could do the one thing that came naturally to him.

"Can you believe that, Luke?" Mike spoke from beside him, and he nodded, though he didn't know what the hell the guy was talking about.

"Actually, guys, I think I'm heading to bed. Pops has got me waking up at five these mornings for two mile runs." He lied easily (though it really wasn't a drastic lie; his father had him waking up at seven sometimes on weekends if he _really_ wanted to be an ass) and began to stand up.

The boys nodded as if they knew what he went, and then went straight back into their gossip. He _swore _they were just girls with penises most of the time.

He climbed the stairs slowly, taking his time to reach his room. For a moment, he contemplated going back downstairs to tell his mother goodnight, but found he was feeling suddenly much too tired, and looking for her down _there_ he was sure to run into some rabid parent wanting to know 'just exactly how he did it'.

He yanked the door open, but was surprised to find his bed was already occupied. He squinted through the dark, and when he could make out only the figure of a female frame, he flicked on the lamp on his desk.

Brooke Davis. He raised an eyebrow. One hand folded underneath her head, with the other resting on the bed, and her legs bended, she looked… much less feisty than usual.

Lucas bit his lip and sighed quietly, pulling off his tie simultaneously. He went to his closet, grabbing a blanket off the top shelf, and walked slowly towards his bed, careful to keep his footsteps silent.

His leaned over Brooke, lowering the blanket over her sleeping frame, making sure any exposed flesh was covered; he didn't know why, but seeing her there exposed made her look delicate and fragile, and he wanted her to be warm.

She began to stir, and he pushed himself down so he was kneeling beside the bed, expecting an insult. Brooke's eyes opened, and she blinked up at him in confusion. "Lucas.."

"Hey," He spoke softly, and he was sure this was the nicest tone he'd ever spoken to Brooke Davis in. "Sorry to wake you. I was just covering you up."

She looked at the blanket covering her, then back up at him. He looked so sincere; so different. She wasn't sure if it was because she'd never before seen him in this light. His hair, short naturally spiky; his eyes so blue, framed by curled golden eyelashes; his jaw line and cheekbone, making him look as if he'd been chiseled down flawlessly just for her eyes to see. She couldn't help but stare. And when that came to be too much, she looked away, tears surely streaming down her cheeks. "I feel so stupid." She whispered.

"Why?" He'd never seen her cry in the time he'd known her. Even when they'd been in elementary school. Sure, she'd pulled a fake-out once or twice or possibly a million times on teachers, but he'd never _really_ seen her cry.

"I'm such a mess. I'm sorry I'm in here, I'm probably the _last_ girl you'd like to end up drunk in your bed."

He laughed lightly. "Don't worry about it. You can sleep here, if you want."

She was_so _tired. Her eyes fluttered open and closed. "I always make an idiot out of myself, huh? Did you see that downstairs?"

"I don't think I've ever in my life seen you make an idiot out of yourself."

"Liar." She whispered, but it was nice to hear.

He leaned closer to her, bringing a hand to her hair and running his fingers through it; her hair was unusually softer than he'd expected it to be. "I'm sorry that you're sad."

"I'm used to it." Brooke shrugged, her skin tingling where his fingers touched her. He'd never actually expected her to be so… serious. All he'd ever known of Brooke was fun and games and being a bitch. She herself was feeling too serious, too vulnerable. Without thinking, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his hastily.

For a moment he almost let himself kiss back, but when he realized he could still taste the vodka on her lips, he pulled back.

"Well, I'm just doing great tonight, aren't I?" She laughed bitterly, choking on her tears.

"No, no, no," He sighed. "I just don't want you to regret this tomorrow. And I know you will, because… well, it's me."

She wasn't sure how to respond, so she simply stared, allowing herself to drink this sight in: Lucas Scott kneeling beside his own bed with her in it, whispering sweet things at her; she was sure it would never happen again. This would be the only moment they'd ever share, in years later, she'd always wonder 'what if'.

"I'm so embarrassed." She cried, and he pulled her in for a hug. This was strange, he realized. Him and Brooke Davis hugging; him and Brooke Davis doing anything other than arguing. But she was sad and acting surprisingly not at all shallow, and he was a much nicer person than she thought he was.

In his arms, she whimpered. "It'll be okay, Brooke. Don't worry."

It took her a few moment to calm down, pulling herself together. Lucas could see her beginning to fall asleep, and he cleared his throat loudly. "Well, I'm just going to sleep on the floor."

"Lucas," she sniffled. "It's okay. Get in the bed."

"My bed's _really_ small." He swallowed.

"Well, so am I." She rolled over and patted the place beside her. After a hesitant look, he climbed into the bed beside her. He'd been right; the bed _barely_ managed to fit them both. They were face to face, and it was hard to concentrate with her so close.

The lamp stayed on, the door remained open, and the thing that was bothering him was that she fell asleep so quickly, when it was all he could do not to keep his eyes open and stare.


End file.
